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TALE  OF  TRUTH, 

By  Mits.    RO-W-SON, 

lf*1Z  OP  THE  XZW  THEATRE,  PHILADELPHIA   •; 

AUTHOR  OF  VICTORIA,  THE  INQUISITOR; 
FJX.LE  DE  CHAMURE,  $rt, 

TWO     VOLUMES     IN    ONE. 


She  was  her  parents'  only  joy  : 
.  They  had  but  one — one  darling  child. 

ROMEO  AND  'JULIE'?, 

tier  form  iv as  faultless  ;  and  her  jnindj 

Untainledyet  by  art, 
IVas  nchle,  just,  humane  and  kind, 

And  virtue  it'afm'd  her  heart* 
Bui  &h  !  the  cruel  spoiler  came-..;**,,: 


for..    I. 


FIFTH  AMERICAN  EDITION, 


HARRISBURCH,    PENNSYL. 
VIUXTED   FOR   MATllEW  CARET  OF   PHIL AEELPEIAj 

by   'John  ivrzTir. 
J  8  02. 


<:  IT  raj  y  be  a  Tale  of  Truth,  for  it  is  not  unnatu- 
ral ;  ?.nd  it  is  a  tale  of  real  distress. .  Charlotte,  by 
the  a  rtifice  of  a  teacher,  recommended  to  a  school 
fro\n  humanity  rather  than  a  conviaion  of  her  in- 
tegrity, or  the  regularity  of  her  former  conducl 
As  enticed  from  her  governess,"  and  accompanie? 
a  young  officer  to  America. — The  marriage  cere 

.  mony,  if  not  forgotten,  is  postponed,  and  Char- 
lotte dies  a  martyr  to  the  inconstancy  cf  her  lovei 
and  treachery  of  his  friend — The  situations 
are  artless  and  affeaing — the  description  natura' 
ttnd  pathetic-  We  should  feel  for  Charlotte,  i: 
such  a  person  ever  existed,  who,  for  one  error 
scarcely,1  perhaps,  deserved  so  severe  a  punish 
ment.     If  it  is  a  fiaion,  poetic,  justice  is  not,  wc 

think,  properly  distributed."- Crit.  Review 

April  179 1 ,/><#<?  4-6&. 

i.tilMHlM.K »„MO....M«t U.MI..I.... •*•»»"" ' > 


,<?^ 
,,.,. 


PREFACE. 


X*  or  theperitfaloftheyoungandthought- 
lefs  of  the  fair  fex,  this  Tale  of  Truth  is  de- 
flgned  ;  and  I  could  wifh  my  fair  readers  to 
confider  it  as  not  merely  the  eftufion  of  Fancy, 
but  as  a  reality  <.  The  circumftances,  on  which 
I  have  founded  this  novel,  were  related  to  me 
fome  little  time  fmce,  by  an  old  lady  who 
had  perfonally  known  Charlotte,  though  fhe 
concealed  the  real  names  of  the  characters/ 
and  likewife  the  place  where  the  unfortunate-7 
fcenes  were  a6ted  :  yet  as  it  was  impoflibkr 
to  offer  a  relation  to  the  public '  in  fuch  a'tf 
imperfecl  ftate,  I  have  thrown  over  the  whole 
a  flight  veil  of  fiction,  and  fubftituted  names 
and  places  according  to  my  own  fancy.  The 
principal  characters  in  this  little  tale  are  novf 
configned  to  the  filent  tomb :  it  can  there- 
fore hurt  the  feelings  of  no  one  ;  and  may,  I 
flatter  myfelf,  be  of  fervice  to  fome  wriq.  are 
fo  unfortunate  as  to  have  neither  friends  to 
advife,  nor  underilanding  to  direct  them, 
through  the  various  ancl  unexpected  evils 
that  attend  a  young  and  unprotected  woman 
in  her  firft  entrance  into  life. 

While  the  tear  of  companion  flill  trembled 
in  my  eye  for  the  fate  of  trie  unhappy  Char- 
lotte, **  I  may  have  children  of  my  own,"  fcud 
I,  "  to  whom  this  recital  may  be  of  ufe."— 


iv,  ?  R  E  F  A  C  E. 

"And  if  to, your  own  children,"  faid  Benevo- 
lence, "why  not  to  the  many  daughters  of 
Misfortune,  who,  deprived  of  natural  friends, 
or  fpoiied  by  a  miftaken  education,  are  thrown 
on  an  unfeeling  world  without  the  leaft  pow- 
er to  defend  themfelves  from  the  fnaresnot 
only  of  the  other  fex,  but  from  the  more  dan- 
gerous arts  of  the  profligate  of  their  own  ?" 

Senfijble  as  I  am;,  that  a  novel  writer,  at  a 
time  when  fuch  a  variety  of  works  are  ufher- 
ed  into  the  world  under  that  name,  Hands  but 
a  poor  chance  for  fame  in  the  annals  of  lite- 
rature, but  confeious  that  I  wrote  with  a 
rnind  anxious  for  the  happinefs  of  that  fex 
whofe  morals  and  conduct  have  fo  powerful 
an  influence  on  mankind  in  general ;  and 
oonvinced  that  I  have  not  written  a  line  that 
eonveys  a  wrong  idea  to  the  head,  or  a  cor- 
rupt wifh  to  the  heart,  I  fhall  reft  fatisfied  in 
the  purity  of;  my  own  intentions,  and  if  I  me- 
rit not  applaufe,Ifeelthat  I  dread  not  Genfure* 

If  the  following  tale  fliould  fave  one  hap- 
lefs  fair  one  from  the  errors  which  ruined- 
poor  Charlotte,  or  refcue  from  impending 
inHery  the  heart  of  one  anxious  parent,  I 
fhall  feel  a  much,  higher  gratification  in  re- 
flecting on  this  trifling  performance,  than, 
cpuid  poflibly  refult  from  the  applaufe  which 
might  attend*  the  moft  elegant  finifned  piece 
of  literature,  whofe  tendency  might  deprave, 
the  heart,  or  miflead  the  wierftanding,. 


Cfjarfotte  Xempie; 


* 


SHATTER    I.     . 
-*:*:*■ 

A  BOARDING  SCHOOL. 

ARE  you  for  a  walk,"  faid  MontravilJe,' 
to  his  companion  as  they  arofe  from  tatele  ; 
iC  are  you  for  a  walk  ?-  or  fhall  we  order  the 
ehaife  and  proceed  to  Portfmouth  ?"  Belcour 
preferred  the  former  ;  and  they  fauntered  out 
to  view  the  town,  and  to  make  remarks  oa 
the  inhabitants,  as  they  returned  from  church. 

■  Montraville  was  a  Lieutenant  in  the  army  r 
Beicour  was  his  brother  officer  :  they  had 
been  to  take  leave  of  their  friends  previous 
to  their  departure  for  America,  and  were 
now  returning  to  Portfmouth,  where  the 
troops  waited  orders  for  embarkation.  They 
had  flopped  at  Chicheftertodine  }  and  know- 
ing they  had  fufncient  time  to  reach  the  place 
of  •deftination  before  dark,  and  yet  allow 
taem  a  Walk,  had  refolved,  it  being  Sunday 
afternoon,  to  take  a  furvey  of  the  Cnichefter 
-idies  as  they  returned  from  their  devotioFs. 
a  2 


S  C  H  A  R  h  G-TT't 

They  had,  gratified  their  eurionty,  and; 
were  preparing  to  return  to  the  inn  without 
honoring  amy  of  the  belles  with  particular  no- 
tice, when  Madame  Du  Pont,  at-  the  head, 
of  her  fchool,.  defcended  from  the  church. 
Such  an  aflcmblage  of  youth  and  innocence 
naturally  attracted  the  young  foldiers  : ,  they 
flopped ;  and,  as  the  little  cavalcade  pafled, 
almofl  involuntarily  pulled  off  their  hats.  A 
tall,  elegant  girl  looked  at  Montraville,  and 
bhifhed  :  he  inflantly  recollected  the  features. 
t>f  Charlcttte  Temple,  whom  he  had  once  feen 
and  danced  with  at  a  ball  at  Eortfmouth.  At 
that  time  lie-  thought  on  her  only  as  a  very 
lovely  child,  fhe  being  then  only  thirteen  ; 
but  the  improvement  two  yea?s  had  made  in 
her  gcrnm,  and  the.  blwfh  of  recollection, 
which,  fuifu&d-  her  Gheeks.  as  l]ie  paffed, 
awakened  in  Lis  bofom  new  and  pleafmg 
ideas..  Vanity  led  him  to  think,  thai  plea- 
fure  at  again  beholding  him,  might  have  oc*. 
cafioned  the  emotion  he  had  witneiTed  ;  and 
tjie  fasae.  varsity,  led  him.  to  wifa  to  fee  her 
again*! 

<*  She  is  die  fw.eei.eft  girl  in  the  world," 
laid  he,  ashe  entered  the  inn.  Eelcour  flared, 
41  Did:  you  not  notice  her  ?"  continued  Mon- 
travaikrr"'fhehad  oa  a  blue  bonnet,  and  with' 
a  pair  of  lovely  eyes  of  the  fame  colour,  lias 
conti-i:wed  to  mafce ;xac  feeldeviliiii  odd  about 
:h.e  heart ," 


€"H  A  RL  O  T  TE,:  1 

i£Poh,"  faid  Belcour,  "  a\  muiket-ball 
from  our  friends  the  Americans,,  may  in  lefs 
than  two  months,  make  you  feel;  wotfe." 

46  I  never  think  of  the  fiature;"  implied 
Montraville  ;  "  but  am  determined  to  make 
the  moil  of.  the  prefent,  and;  wouldV  willingly 
compound  with  any  kind  Familiar*,  who 
would  inform,  me  who  the  girl  is,  and  how  I 
might  be  likely  to  obtain,  an  interview." 

But  no  kind  Familiar  at  that  time  appear- 
ing, and  the  chaife,  which  they  had  ordered, 
driving;  up  to  the  door,  Montraville  and  his 
companion  were  obliged  to  take  leave  o£ 
Chichefter  and  its  fair  inhabitant,  and  pro- 
ceed em  their  journey. 

But  Charlotte  had  made  too  great  an  im- 
prefTion  on  his  mind  to  be  eafily  eradicated  : 
having  therefore,  fpent  three  whole  days  in- 
thinking  on  her,  and  endeavoring  to  form 
fome  plan  for  feeing  her,  he  determined  to fet 
off  for  Chicheiter,  andtruft  to  chance  either 
to  favor  or  fruitrate  his  defigns.  Arriving 
at  the  vergeofrthe  town,  he  difinounted,.  and 
fending  the  fervant  forward  with  the  horfes, 
proceeded  toward  the  place,,  where  in  the 
midfl  of  an  extennve  pleafure  ground,,  ftood 
the  manfion  which',  contained  th#  lovelv 
Charlotte  Temple.  Montnwille  leaned  on  a 
broken  gate,  and  looked  eameftiy  aHhehoufc. 
The  v/ailj  which  furrounded  it,  wte  ?%h  j 


8  C  HA  RLOT'TL 

and  perhaps  the  Argufies,  who  guarded  the 
Hefperian  fruit  within,  were  more  watchful 
than  thofe  famed  of  old. 

"  'Tis  a  romantie  attempt,"  faid  he  ; 
"  and  fliould  I  even  fucceed  in  feeing  and 
converfing  with  her,  it  can  be  productive  of 
no  good  :  I  muft  of  neceffity  leave  England 
in  a  few  days,  and  probably  may  never  re- 
turn ;  why  then  fliould  I  endeavor  to  engage 
the  affections  of  this  lovely  girl,  only  to  leave 
her  a  prey  to  a  thoufand  inquietudes,  of 
which  at  prefent  fhe  has  no  idea  ?  I  will 
return  to  Portfmouth,  and  think  no  more 
about  her." 

:.. 

The  evening  was  now  clofed;  aferene  ftill- 
nefs  reigned;  and  the  chafle  Queen  of  Night, 
with  her  filver  crefcent,  faintly  illuminated 
the  hemifphere.  The  mind  of  Montraville 
was  hufhed  into  compofure  by  the  ferenityof 
the  furrounding  objects.  **  I  will  think  on 
her  no  more, 'Maid  he,  and  turned  with  an 
intention  to  leave  the  place ;  but  as  he  turned, 
he  law  the  gate  which  led  to  the  pleafure 
grounds  open,  and  two  women  come  out, 
who  walked  arm-in-arm  acrofs  the  field. 

- 

"I  will  at  leaft  fee  who  thefe  arc,"  Hud  he. 
He  overtook  them, and  giving  them  the  com- 
pliments of  the  evening,  begged  leave  to  fee 
them  into  the  mere  frequented  parts  of  the 
towii ;  but  how  was1  he  deli ghted7v,  hen,  wait- 


CHARLOTTE.  r 

ing  for  an  anfwer,  He  difcovered  under  the 
concealment  of  a  large  bonnet,  the  face  of 
Charlotte  Temple.. 

He  foon  found  means  to  ingratiate  himfelf 
with  her  companion,  who  was  a  French 
teacher  at  the  fchool,  and,  at  parting,  Hipped 
a  letter  he  had  purpofely;  written,  into  Char- 
lotte's hand,  and  five  guineas  into  that  of 
Mademoifelle,  who  promifed  flie  would  en- 
deavor to  bring  her  young  charge  into  the 
field  again  the  next  evening. 


C  H  A  R'L  O  T  T  E.v  U 

- 

CHAPTER    II. 


DOMESTIC  CONCERNS. 


JyJr.  Temple  was  the  youngeft  fon;  of  a 
nobleman,  whofe  fortune  was  by  no  means 
adequate  to  the  antiquity,  grandeur,  and,  I 
may  add,  pride  of  the  family.  He  faw  his 
elder  brother  made  completely  wretched  by 
marrying  a  difagreeable  woman,  whofe  for- 
tune helped  to  prop  the  finking  dignity  of 
the  houfe  ;  and  he  beheld  his  filters  legally 
proftituted  to  old,  decrepit  men,  whofe  titles 
gave  them  confequenee  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  and  whofe  affluence  rendered  them 
fplendidly  miferable.  "  I  will  not  facrifice 
internal  happinefs  for  outward  {how,"  faid 
he  :  "1  will  feek  Content ;  and,  if  I  find  her 
in  a  cottage,  will  embrace  her  with  as  much 
cordiality  as  I  fhould  if  feated  on  a  throne." 

Mr.  Temple  poffefTed  a  fmall  eftate  of 
about  five  hundred  pounds  a  year  ;  and  with 
that  he  refolved  to  preferve  independence,  to 
marry  where  the  feelings  of  his  heart  fhould 
direct  him,  and  to  confine  his  expenfes  with- 
in the  limits  of  his  income.     He  had  a.  heart 


m         C  H  A  R^L'O  TTE, 

open  to  every  generous  feeling  of  humanity, 
and  a  hand  ready  to  difpenfe,  to  thofe  who 
wanted,  part  of  the  blefiings  he  enjoyed 
himfelf. 

As  he  was  univerfally  known  to  be  the 
friend  of  the  unfortunate,  his  advice  and 
bounty  were  frequently  folicited  ;  nor  was  it 
feldom  that  he  fought  out  indigent  merit, 
and  raifed  it  from  obfcurity,  confining  his 
•  own  expenfes  within  a  very  narrow  compafs. 

"  You  are  a  benevolent  fellow,"  faid  -a 
young  officer  to  him  one  day  ;  "  and  I  have 
a  great  mind  to  give  you -a  fubje<5t  to  exer- 
-cife  the  goodnefs  of  your  heart  upon." 

"  You  cannot  oblige  me  more,"  faid  Tem- 
ple, "than  to  point  out  any  way  by  which  I 
can  be  ferviceable  to  my.  fellow  creatures." 

**  Come  along  then,"  faid  the  young  man, 
*'  we  will  go  and  vifit  a  man  who  is  not  in  fo 
good  a  lodging  as  he  deferves  ;  and,  were  it 
not  that  he  has  an  angel  with  him,  who  com- 
forts and  fupports  him,  he  mult  long  fincc 
have  funk  under  his  misfortunes."  The 
young  man's  heart  was  too  full  to  proceed  ; 
and  Temple,  unwilling  to  irritate  his  feelings 
by  making  further  enquiries,followedhimin 
fdeuce,  till  they  arrived  at  the  Fleet  prifon. 


C  H  A  RL  O  T  T  E.  13 

The  officer  enquired  for  Captain  Eldridge. 
A  perfon  led  them  up  feveral  pair  of  dirty- 
flairs,  and  pointing  to  a  door  which  led  to  a 
miferable,  iinall  apartment,  faid  that  was  the 
Captain's  room,  and  retired. 

The  officer,  whofe  name  was  Blakeney, 
xappcd  at  the  door,  and  was  bid  to  enter  by 
a  voice  melodioully  foft.  He  opened  the  door, 
and  difcovered  to  Temple  aicene  which  ri- 
vetted  him  to  the  fpot  with  aitonifhment. 

The  apartment  though  fmall,  and  bearing 
■ftrong  marks  of  poverty,  was  neat  in  the  ex- 
treme. In  an  arm-chair,  his  head  reelinedup- 
on  his  hand,  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  book  which, 
lay  open  before  him,  fat  an  aged  man  in  a 
Lieutenant's  uniform,  which,  though  thread- 
bare, fhould  fooner  call  a  blufh  of  lliame  in- 
to the  face  of  thofe  who  could  negle£t  real 
merit,  than  caufe  the  heclic  of  confuiion  to 
glow  on  the  cheeks  of  him  who  wore  it. 

Befide  him  fat  a  lovely  creature,  bufied  in 
painting.a  fan  mount.  She  was  fair  as  the 
lily  ;  but  forrow  had  nipped  the  rofe  in  her 
cheek,  before  it  was  half  blown.  Her  eve§ 
were  blue  ;  and  her  hair,  which  was  light 
brown,  was  flightiy  confined  under  a  plaha 
muilin  cap,  tied  round  with  a  black  ribbon ; 
a  white  linen  gown  and  plain  lawn  handker- 
chief compofed  the  remainder  of  her  dreis ; 
£nd  in  this  fimple  attire,  ilie  was  more  irie- 
vol.  I.  B 


14  CHARLOTTE. 

fiftibly  charming  to  fuch  a  heart  asTemplc"s, 
than  the  would  hare  been,  if  adorned  with 
ail  the  fplehaor  of  a  courtly  belle. 

-  When  they  entered,  the  old  man  arofe 
from  his  feat,  and  fhaking  Blakeney  by  the 
hand  with  great  cordiality,  offered  Temple 
his  chair  ;  and  there  being  but  three  in  the 
room,  feated  himfelf  en  the  lide  of  his  little 
bed,  with  evident  compofure. 

i*  This  is  a  ftrange  place,"  faid  he  to  Tem- 
ple, "to  receive  vilitors  of  diftincYion  in  ; 
but  we  muft  fit  our  feelings  to  our  ftation. 
While  I  am  not  afhamed  to  owft  the  caufe 
which  brought  me  here,  why  ihould  I  blufh 
at  my  fituation  ?  Our  misfortunes  are  not 
our  faults  ;   and   were    it   not  for  that  poor 


Here  the  philofopher  was  loft  in  the  father. 
He  rofe  haftily  from  his  feat,  walked  towards 
the  window,  and  wiped  eft'  a  tear  which  he 
was  afraid  would  tarnifh  the  cheek'cf  afailor. 

Temple  call  his  eye  on  Mifs  Eldridge  ;  a 
pellucid  drop  had  ftolen  from  her  eyes,  and 
fallen  upon  a  rofe  (lie  was  paintins/,.  It  blot- 
ted and  difcoloured  the  flower.  "  'Tis  em- 
blematic," faid  he  mentally  :  "  the  rofe  of 
youth  and  health  foon  fades  when  watered 
by  the  tear  of  afilicTion.n 


CHARLOTTE.  15  • 

"  My  friend  Blackeney,"  faid  he,  addreff* 
ing  the  old  man,  "  told  me  I  could  be  of 
fervice  to  you  :  be  fo  kind,  then,  dear  Sir, 
as  to  point  out  fome  way  in  which  I  can  re- 
lieve the  anxiety  of  your  heart  and  encreafe 
the  pleafures  of  my  own." 

"  My  good  young  man,"  faid  Eidridge, 
" youknownot whatyou  offer.  Whii e depriv- 
ed of  my  liberty,  I  cannot  be  free  from  anxi- 
ety on  my  own  account ;  but  that  is  a  trifling; 
concern  ;  my  anxious  thoughts  extend  to  one 
more  dear  a  thoufand  times  than  life  :  I  am 
a  poor,  weak,  old  man,  and  muft  expecl  in 
a  few  years  to  fink  into  filence  and  oblivion  ; 
but  when  I  am  gone,  who  will  protect  that 
fair  bud  of  innocence  from  the  b'lafts  of  ad- 
verfity,  or  from  the  cruel  hand  of  infult  and 
dishonour?" 

"  Oh,  my  father!"  cried  Mifs  Eidridge,' 
tenderly  taking  his  hand,  "  be  not  anxious 
on  that  account ;  for  daily  are  my  prayers 
offered  to  hearen  that  our  lives  may  terminate 
at  the  fame  inflant,  ami  one  grave  receive 
us  both  ;  for  why  mould  I  live  when  depriv- 
ed of  my  only  friend  I ' ' 

Temple  was  moved  even  to  tears.  "  You 
will  both  live  many  years,"  faid  he,  "  and  I 
hope  fee  muqh  happinefe.  Chee'rly,  my  friend, 
cheerly ;  thefe  paffing  clouds  of  adverhty  will 
ferve  only  to  make  the  funfhme  of  profperity 


16  CHARLOTTE, 

more  plcafing.  But  We  are  loHng  time  : 
you  might  ere  this  have  told  rnc  who  wert 
your  creditors,  what  were  their  demands, 
arid  other  particulars  necelTary  to  your  libe- 
ration." 

44  My  ftory  is  fhort,"  faid  Mr.  Eldridge; 
**  but  there  are  fome  particulars  which  will 
wring  my  heart  barely  to  remember  ;  yet  to 
one  whole  offers  of  friendfhip  appear  fo  open 
and  diiinterefted,  I  will  relate  every  circum- 
ilance  that  led  to  my  prefent  painful  filiation. 
But  my  child,"  continued  he,  addreffmg  his 
daughter,  "  let  me  prevail  ou  you  to  take 
this  opportunity,  while  my  friends  are  with 
me,  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  air  and  exercife. 
■Go,  my  love  ;  leave  me  now  ;  to-morrow  at 
your  vifual  hour  I  will  expect  you." 

Mifs  Eldridge  impreffed  on  his  cheek  the 
ldfs  of  filial  affection,  and  obeyed. 


CHARLOTTE.  2i 

i y  her  ;  but  offered  to  releafe  me  immediate- 
ly, and  make  any  fettlement  on  her,  if  George 
would  perfuade  her  to  live,  as  he  impioufly 
termed  it,  a  life  of  honor. 

"  Fired  at  the  infult  offered  to  a  man  and 
a  foldier,  my  boy  ftruck  the  villain,  and  a 
challenge  enfued.  He  then  went  to  a  coffee- 
houfe  in  the  neighborhood,  and  wrote  a  long$ 
affectionate  letter  to  me,  blaming  himfelf  fe^ 
verely  for  having  introduced  Lewis  into  thg 
family,  or  permitted  him  to  confer  an  obliga- 
tion, which  had  brought  inevitable  ruin  on 
us  all.  He  begged  me,  whatever  might  be 
the  event  of  the  enfuing  morning,  not  to 
fuffer  regret  or  unavailing  forrow  for  his  fate, 
to  encreafe  the  anguifh  of  my  heart,  which,  he 
greatly  feared  was  already  infupportable. 

"  This  letter  was  delivered  to  me  early  hi 
the  morning.  It  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt 
defcribing  my  feelings  oil  the  perufal  of  it  ; 
fuffice  it  to  Fay,  that  a  merciful  Providence 
interpofed,  and  I  was  for  three  weeks  infen- 
fible  to  miferies  almoft  beyond  the  ftrength 
of  human  nature  to  fupport. 

"  A  fever  and  ftrong  delirium  feized  me, 
and  my  life  was  defpaired  of.  At  length, 
nature,  overpowered  with  fatigue,  gave  way 
to  the  falutary  power  of  reft,  and  a  quiet 
(lumber  of  fome  hours  reflored  me  to  reafon, 
though  the  extreme  weaknefs  of  my  frame 
prevented  my  feeling  my  diftrefe  fo  "acutely 
as  I  othcrwife  fhculd. 


22  CHARLOTTE. 

11  The  -Rrft  object  that  ftruck  me  on  awak- 
ing, was  Lucy  iitting  by  my  bedfide  ;  her 
pale  countenance  and  fable  drefs  prevented 
my  enquiries  for  poor  George  :  for  the  letter 
I  had  received  from  him,  was  the  firft  thing 
that  occurred  to  my  memory.  By  degrees 
the  reft  returned  :  I  recollected  being  arrett- 
ed, but  could  no  ways  account  for  being  in 
this  apartment,  whither  they  had  conveyed 
me  during  my  illnefs. 

"  I  was  fo  weak  as  to  be  almoft  unable  to 
fpeak  :  preffed  Lucy's  hand,  and  looked  ear- 
neftly  round  the  apartment  in  fearch  of  ano- 
ther dear  object. 

\ Where  is  your  mother  ?"  faid  I  faintly. 

u  The  poor  girl  could  not  anfwer  :  flic 
fhook  her  head  in  exprefiive  lilence  ;  and 
throwing  herfelf  on  the  bed,  folded  her  arm's 
about  me,  and  burit  into  tears. 

"  What  !  both  gone,"  faid  I. 

"  Both,"  fhe  replied,  endeavoring  to  f"<g- 
ftrainher  emotions  :  "  but  they  are  happy, 
no  doubt." 

Here  Mr.  Eldridge  paufed  :  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  fcene  was  too  painful  to  permit 
him  to  proceed. 


CHARLOTTE/  '23 


CHAPTER     IV. 


CHANGE  OF  FORTUNE. 


„T  was  fome  days,"  continued  Mr.  Eld- 
ridge,  recovering  himfelf,  "  before  I  could 
venture  to  enquire  the  particulars  of  what 
had  happened  during  my  iilnefs  ••••at  length 
I  aflumed  courage  to  afk  my  dear  girl,  how 
long  her  mother  and  brother  had  been  dead  : 
fhe  told  me,  that  the  morning  after  my  ar- 
reft,  George  came  home  early  to  enquire- af- 
ter his  mother's  health,  flaid  with  them  rjut 
a  few  minutes,  feemed  greatly  agitated  at 
parting,  but  gave  them  ftrict  charge  to  keep 
up  their  fpirits,  and  hope  every  thing  would 
•turn  out  for  the  heft.  In  about  two  hours 
after,  as  they  were  fitting  at  breakfaft,  and 
endeavoring;  to  itrike  out  ibmc  plan  to  attain 
my  liberty,  they  heard  a  loud  rap  at  the  door, 
which  Lucy  running  to  open,  fhe  met  the 
bleeding  bocyj)f  her  brother,  borne  in  by 
two  men  who  had  lifted  him  from  a  litter,  on 
which  they  had  brought  him  from  the  place 
where  he  fought.  Her  poor  mother,  weak- 
ened by  iilnefs  and  the  druggies  of  the  pre- 
ceding night,  was  not  abie  to  fupport  this 
fliock  :  gafping  for  breath,  her  looks  v.  i  d 
and  haggard,    fhe   reached   the  apartment 


24  CHARLOTTE. 

where  they  had  carried  her  dying  fon.  She- 
knelt  by  the  bed-fide ;  and  taking  his  cold 
hand,  '  my  poor  boy,'  faicl  fhe,  '  I  will  not 
be  parted  from  thee  :  hufband  !  fon  !  both  at 
once  lofc — Father  of  mercies  fpare  me  !'  — 
She  fell  into  aflrong  convulfion,  and  expired 
in  about  two  hours.  In  the  mean  time,  a 
furgeon  had  drefted  George?s  wounds  ;  but 
they  were  in  fuch  a  fituation  as  to  bar  the 
fmalleft  hopes  of  recovery.  He  never  was 
fenfible  from  the  time  he  was  bro't  home,  and 
died  that  evening  in  the  arms  of  his  lifter. 

"  Late  as  it  was  when  this  event  took 
place,  my  affectionate  Lucy  infilled  on  concu 
ing  to  me.  *  What  mull  he  feel,'  faid  fhe, 
4  at  our  apparent  neglect,  and  how  fhall  I  in- 
form him  of  the  afflictions  with  which  it  has 
pleafed  heaven  to  vifit  us  V 

"  She  left  the  care  of  the  dear  departed 
ones  to  fome  neighbors,  who  had  kindly 
come  in  to  comfort  and  affift  her ;  and  on  en- 
tering the  houfe  where  I  was  confined,  found 
me  in  the  fituation  I  have  mentioned. 

"  How  fhe  fupported  herfelf  in  thefe  try- 
ing moments,  I  know  not :  heaven,  no  doubt, 
was  with  her  ;  and  her  anxiety  to  preferve 
the  life  of  one  parent  in  fome  meafure  abated 
her  a9U6tion  for  the  lofs  of  the  other. 


CHARLOTTE.      .2* 

"  My  circumftances  were  greatly  embar- 
raffed,  my  acquaintance  few,  and  thofe  few 
utterly  unable  to  afiift  me.  When  my  wife 
and  fon  were  committed  to  the  kindred  earth, 
my  creditors  feized  my  houfe  and  furniture, 
which  not  being  fufficient  to  difcharge  all 
their  demands,  detainers  were  lodged  againft 
me.  No  friend  Hepped  forward  to  my  relief; 
from  the  grave  of  her  mother,  my  beloved 
Lucy  followed  an  almoft  dying  father  to  this 
melancholy  place. 

"  Here  we  have  been  nearly  a  year  and  a 
half.  My  half-pay  I  have  given  up  to  fatis- 
fy  my  creditors,  and  my  child  fupports  mc 
by  her  induftry :  fometimes  by  fine  needle- 
work, fometimes  by  painting..  She  leaves 
me  every  night,  and  goes  to  a  lodging  near 
the  bridge:  but  returns  in  the  morning,  to> 
cheer  me  with  her  fmiles,  and  blefs  me  by 
her  duteous  afFeclion.  A  lady  once  offered 
her  an  afylum  in  her  family  ;  but  fhe  would 
not  leave  me.  *  We  are  all  the  world  to 
each  other,'  faid  fhe,  c  I  thank  God,  I  have 
health  and  fpirits  to  improve  the  talents  with 
which  nature  has  endowed  me  ;  and  I  trufl, 
if  I  employ  them  in  the  fupport  of  a  beloved 
parent,  I  (hall  not  be  thought  an  unprofitable 
fervant.  W'hile  he  lives,  I  pray  for  flrength 
to  purfue  my  employment ;  and  when  it 
pleafes  heaven  to  take  one  of  us,  may  it  give 
the  furvivor  fortitude  to  bear  the  feparation 
with  due  refignation  ;  till  then  I  will  never 
leave  him.'  vol.  1.         c 


26  CHARLOTTE. 

"  But  where  is  this  inhuman  perfecutor  ?" 
faid  Temple. 

"  He  has  been  abroad  ever  fmce,"  replied 
the  old  man;  ''but  he  has  left  orders  with 
his  lawyer  never  to  give  up  the  note  till  the 
utmoft  farthing  is  paid." 

"  And  how  much  is  the  amount  of  your 
debts  in  all  ?"  faid  Temple. 

"  Five  hundred  pounds,"  he  replied. 

\  Temple  ftarted  :  it  was  more  than  he  ex- 
peeled.  "But  fomething  muft  be  done,'* 
faid  he  :  "  that  fweet  maid  muft  not  wear 
out  her  life  in  a  prifon.  I  will  fee  you  again 
to-morrow,  my  friend,"  faid  he,  fhaking  El- 
dridge's  hand  :  "  keep  up  your  fpirits  :  light 
and  ihade  are  not  more  happily  blended  than 
are  the  pleafures  and  pains  of  life  ;  and  the 
horrors  of  the  one  ferve  only  to  encreafe  the 
fplendor  of  the  other,' ? 

"  You  never  loft  a  wife  and  fon,''  faigl  EI- 
dridge. 

"  No,"  replied  he,  "but  I  can  feel  for 
thofe  that  have."  Eldridge  preffed  his  hand, 
as  they  went  toward  the  door,  and  they  part- 
ed in  filence. 

When  they  got  without  the  walls  of  the 
prifon,  Temple  thanked  his  friend  Blackener 


CHARLOtT  E.  27 

for  introducing  him  to  fo  worthy  a  character; 
and  telling  him  he  had  a  particular  engage- 
ment in  the  city,  wifhed  him  a  good  evening. 

"  And  what  is  to  be  done  for  this  diftreff- 
edman?"  faid  Temple,  as  he  walked  up 
Ludeate  Hill.  "  Would  to  heaven  I  had  a 
fortune  that  would  enable  me  inftantly  to 
difcharge  his  debt ;  what  exquifite  tranfport, 
to  fee  the  expreffive  eyes  of  Lucy  beaming  at 
once  with  pleafure  for  her  father's  deliver^ 
ance,  and  gratitude  for  her  deliverer  :  but  is 
not  my  fortune  affluence,"  continued  he, 
**  nay,  fuperfluous  wealth,  when  compared 
to  the  extreme  indigence  of  Eldridge  ?  and 
what  have  I  done  to  deferve  eafe  and  plenty, 
while  a  brave  worthy  officer  flarves  in  a  pri- 
fon  :  Three  hundred  a  year  is  furely  -fuflici* 
ent  for  all  my  wants  and  wifhes  ;  at  any  rate^ 
Eldridge  mult  be  relieved." 

When  the  heart  has  will,  the  hands  canfoon 
find  means  to  execute  a  r<ood  action. 

Temple  was  a  young  man,  his  feelings 
warm  and  impetuous;  unacquainted  with  the 
world,  his  heart  had  not  been  rendered  cal- 
lous by  being  convinced  of  its  fraud  and  hy- 
pocrify.  He  pitied  their  fufferings,  overlook- 
ed their  aults,  thought  every  bofom  as  ge- 
nerous as  his  own,  and  would  cheerfully 
have  divided  hislafl  guinea  with  an  unfortu- 
nate fellow  creature. 


28  CHARLOTTE 

No  wonder,  then,  that  fuch  a  man,  (with- 
out waiting  a  moment  for  the  interference  of 
Madam  Prudence)  fhould  refolve  to  raife 
money  fufficient  for  the  relief  of  Eldridge, 
by  mortgaging  part  of  his  fortune. 

We  will  not  enquire  too  minutely  into  the 
motive  which  might  actuate  him  in  this  in- 
ftance  :  fumce  it  to  fay,  he  immediately  put 
the  plan  in  execution;  and  in  three  days  from 
the  time  lie  firft  faw  the  unfortunate  Lieute- 
nant, he  had  the  fuperlative  felicity  of  feeing 
him  at  liberty,  and  receiving  an  ample  re- 
ward in  the  tearful  eye  and  half  articulated 
thanks  of  the  grateful  Lucy. 

11  And  pray,  young  man,"  faid  his  father 
to  him  one  morning,  "  what  are  your  de- 
figns  in  vifiting  thus  conftantly  that  old  man 
and  his  daughter  ?" 

Temple  w^as  at  a  lofs  for  a  reply  :  he  had 
never  afked  himfelf  the  queftion  :  he  hefitat- 
ed  and  his  father  continued.... 

"It  was  not  till  within  thefe  few  days  that  I 
heard  in  what  manner  your  acquaintance  firft 
commenced,  and  cannot  fuppofe  any  thing 
but  attachment  to  the  daughter  could  carry 
you  fuch  imprudent  lengths  for  the  father ;  it 
certainly  muft  be  her  art  that  drew  you  in  to 
mortgage  part  of  your  fortune." 


CHARLOTTE.  39 

K'-  Art,  Sir!"  cried  Temple  eagerly.... 
'*'  Lucy  Eldridge  is  as  free  from  art  as  ilie  is 
from  every  other  error  :   ihe  is " 

"  Every  thing  that  is  amiable  and  lovely,' * 
faid  his  father,  interrupting  him,  ironically; 
*  no  doubt,  in  your  opinion  fhe  is  a  pattern 
of  excellence  for  all  her  fex  to  follow  ;  but 
come,  Sir,  pray  tell  me,  what  are  your  de- 
iigns  toward  this  paragon  ?  I  hope  you  do 
not  intend  to  complete  your  folly  by  marry- 
ing her." 

"  Were  my  fortune  fuch  as  would  fupport 
her,  according  to  her  merit,  I  don't  know  a 
woman  more  formed  to  enfure  happinels  in 
the  married  ftate." 

li  Then  prithee,  my  dear  lad,"  faid  his 
father,  "  fmce  your  rank  and  fortune  are  fo 
much  beneath  what  your  Princess  might  ex- 
pec!,  be  fo  kind  as  to  turn  your  eyes  to  Mifs 
Weatherby  ;  who,  having  only  an  eftate  of 
three  thoufand  a  year,  is  more  upon  a  level 
with  you,  and  whofe  father  yefterclay  iblieited 
the  mighty  honor  of  your  alliance.  I  ihali 
leave  you  to  corifider  on  this  oiT.  r  ;  and  pray 
remember,  that  your  -union  with  Mifs  Wea- 
therby will  put  it  in  your  power  to  be  more 
liberally  the  friend  of  Lucy  Eldrkisre." 


SO  CHARLOTTE. 

The  old  gentleman  walked  in  a  ftately 
manner  out  of  the  room ;  and  Temple  flood 
almoft  petrified  with  altomftiment,  contempt 
and  rage, 


CHARLOTTE.  31 

CHAPTER    V. 

SUCH  THINGS  ARE, 

JVliss  Weatherby  was  the  only  chnd  of  a 
wealthy  man,  almoft  idolized  by  her  parents, 
flattered  by  her  dependants,  and  never  con- 
tradicted even  by  thofewho  called  themfelves 
her  friends  :  I  cannot  give  a  better  defcrip- 
tion  than  by  the  following  lines  : 

The  lovely  maid  whose  form  and  face 
Nature  has  deck'd  with  every  grace, 
But  in  whose  breast  no  virtues  glow. 
Whose  heart  ne'er  felt  another's  woe, 
Whose  hand  ne'er  smooth'd  the  bed  of  pain, 
Or  eas'd  the  captive's  galling  chain  : 
But  like  the  tulip  caught  the  eye, 
Born  just  to  be  admir'd  and  die  ; 
When  gone,  no  one  regrets  its  loss, 
Or  scarce  remembers  that  it  was. 

Such  was  Mifs  Weatherby;  her  form 
lovely  as  nature  could  make  it,  but  her  mind 
uncultivated,  her  heart  unfeeling, her  pafii on s 


32  CHARLOTTE. 

impetuous,  and  her  brain  almoft  turned  with 
flattery,  difiipation  and  pleafure  ;  and  fuch 
was  the  girl,  whom  a  partial  grandfather  left 
independent  miftrefs  of  the  fortune  before 
mentioned. 

She  had  feen  Temple  frequently  ;  and  fan- 
cying fhe  could  never  be  happy  without 
him,  nor  once  imagining  he  could  refufe  a 
girl  of  her  beauty  and  fortune,  fhe  prevailed 
on  her  fond  father  to  offer  the  alliance  to  the 
old  Earl  of  D ,  Mr.  Temple's  father. 

The.  Earl  had  received  the  offer  courte- 
oully  :  he  thought  it  a  great  match  for  Hen- 
ry ;  and  was  too  fafhionable  a  man  to  fuppofe 
a  wife  couldlje  any  impediment  to  the  friend- 
Ihip  he  profelTed  for  Eldridge  and  his  daugh- 
ter. 

Unfortunately  for  Temple,  he  thought 
quite  otherwife  :  the  converfation  he  had  juft 
had  with  his  father,  difcovered  to  him  the 
iituation  of  his  heart ;  and  he  found  that  the 
moft  affluent  fortune  would  bring  no  in- 
creafe  of  happinefs  uniefs  Lucy  Eldridge 
fnared  it  with  him  ;  and  the  integrity  of  his 
own  heart,  made  him  fhudder  at  the  idea  his 
father  had  ftarted,  of  marrying  a  woman  for 
no  other  reafon  than  becaufe  the  affluence  of 
her  fortune  would  enable  him  to  injure  her 
by  maintaining  in  fplendor  the  woman  to 
whom  his  heart  was  devoted  :  he  therefore 


CHARLOTTE.  33 

refolved  to  refufe  Mifs  Weatherby,  and,  be 
the  event  what  it  might,  offer  his  heart  and 
hand  to  Lucy  Eldridge. 

Full  of  this  determination,  he  fought  his 
father,  declared  his  refolution,  and  was  com- 
manded nevermore  to  appear  in  his  prefence. 
Temple  bowed :  his  heart  was  too  full  .to  per- 
mit him  to  fpeak  ;  he  left  the  houfe  preci- 
pitately, and  haftened  to  relate  the  caufe  of 
his  forrows,  to  his  good  old  friend  and  his 
amiable  daughter. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Earl,  vexed  to  the 
foul  that  fuch  a  fortune  fhould  be  loft,  de- 
termined to  offer  himfelf  a  candidate  for  Mifs 
Weatherby's  favor. 

"What  wonderful  changes  are  wrought  by 
that  reigning  power,  ambition  !  the  love-fick 
girl,  when  mil  fhe  heard  of  Temple's  refu- 
sal, wept,  raved,  tore  her  hair,  and  vowed  to 
found  a  proteftant  nunnery  with  her  fortune  ; 
and  commencing  abbefs,  to  fhut  herfelf  up 
from  the  fight  of  cruel  ungrateful  man  for 
ever. 

Her  father  was  a  man  of  the  world  :  he 
fuffered  this  firft  tranfport  to  fubfide,and  then 
very  deliberately  unfolded  to  her  the  offers  of 
the  old  Earl,  expatiated  on  the  many  be- 
nefits arifmg  from  an  elevated  title,  painted 
in  glowing  colours  the  furprife  and  vexatica 


34  CHAKLOTT  E. 

of  Temple  when  he  fhould  fee  her  figuring 
as  a  Countefs  and  his  mother-in-law,  and 
begged  her  to  confider  well  before  fhe  made 
any  rafh  vows. 

The  distressed  fair  one  dried  her  tears, 
iifienecl  patiently,  and  at  length  declared  fhe 
believed  the  fureft  method  to  revenge  the 
flight  put  on  her  by  the  fon,  would  be  to  ac- 
cept the  father  :  fo  faid  fo  done,  and  in  a  few 
days  (lie  became  the  Countefs  D -. 

Temple  heard  the  news  with  emotion : 
he  had  loft  his  father's  favor  by  .avowing  his 
paifion  for  Lucy,  and  he  faw  now  there  was 
no  hope  of  regaining  it :  "but  he  fhall  not 
make  me  miferable,"  faid  he,  "  Lucy  and  I 
have  no  ambitious  notions  :  we  can  live. on 
three  hundred  a  year  for  fome  little  time,  till 
the  mortgage  is  paid  off,  and  then  we  fhall 
have  fufficient  not  only  for  the  comforts  but 
many  of  the  little  elegancies  of  iife.  We  will 
purchafe  a  little  cottage,  my  Lucy,"  faid  he, 
*'  and  thither,  with  your  reverend  father,  we 
will  retire  ;  we  will  forget  that  there  are  fuch 
things  as  fplendor,  profufion  and  difiipation  : 
we  will  have  fome  cows,  and  you  fhall  be 
queen  of  the  dairy  ;  in  a  morning,  while  I 
look  after  my  garden,  you  fhall  take  a  bafket 
on  your  arm,  and  fally  forth  to  feed  your 
poultrv  ;  and  as  they  flutter  round  you  in 
token  of  humble  gratitude,  your  father, fhall 
fmoke  his  pipe  in,   a  woodbine  alcove,  and 


CHARLOTTE,  35 

viewing  the  ferenity  of  your  countenance, 
feel  fuch  real  pleafure  dilate  his  heart,  as  fhall 
make  him  forget  he  has  ever  been  unhappy." 

Lucy  fmiled  :  and  Temple  faw  it  was  the 
fmile  of  approbation.  He  fought  and  found 
a  cottage  fuited  to  his  tafle  ;  thither,  attend- 
ed by  Love  and  Hymen,  the  happy  trio  re- 
tired, where,  during  many  years  of  uninter- 
lupted  felicity,  they  call  not  a  wifh  beyond 
the  little  boundaries  of  their  own  tenement. 
Plenty,  and  her  handmaid,  Prudence,  prefid- 
ed  at  their  board ;  Hofpitality  flood  at  their 
gate,  Peace  fmiled  on  each  face,  Content 
reigned  in  each  heart,  and  Love  and  Health 
ftrewed  rofes  on  their  pillows. 

Such  were  the  parents  of  Charlotte  Tem- 
ple, who  was  the  only  pledge  of  their  mutual 
love,  and  who,  at  the  earneft  entreaty  of  a 
particular  friend,  was  permitted  to  finifh  the 
education  her  mother  had  begun,  at  Madame 
Du  Pont's  fchool,  where  we  firft  introduced 
frer  to  the  acquaintance  of  the  reader. 


C    H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E, 

-<^><XX>000<^><>0<><><><>00— 

CHAPTER     VI. 


AN  INTRIGUING  TEACHER. 

JVIadame  Du  Pont  was  a  woman  every 
way  calculated  to  take  the  care  of  young  la- 
dies, had  that  care  entirely  devolved  on  her- 
felf ;  but  it  was  impoflible  to  attend  the  edu- 
cation of  a  numerous  fchool  without  proper 
afliftants  :  and  thofe  afiiftants  were  not  always 
the  kind  of  people  wliGfe  converfation  and 
morals  were  exactly  fuch  as  parents  of  de~ 
licacv  and  refinement  would  wifh  a  daughter 
to  copy.  Among  the  teachers  at  Madame 
Du  Pont's fchool,  was  Mademoifelle  La  Rue, 
who  added  to  a  pleafmg  perfon  and  infinu- 
ating  addrefs,  a  liberal  education  and  the 
manners  of  a  gentlewoman.  She  was  re- 
commended to  the  fchool  by  a  lady,  whofe 
humanity  overflepped  the  bounds  of  difcre- 
tion  :  for  though  fhe  knew  Mifs  La  Rue  had 
eloped  from  a  convent  with  a  young  oiiicer, 
and,  on  coming  to  England,  had  lived  with 
feveral  different  men  in  open  defiance  of  all 
moral  and  religious  duties  ;  yet,  finding  her 
reduced  to  the  molt  abject  want,  and  believ- 
vol.  1.  D 


38  CHARLOTTE. 

ing  the  penitence  which  fhe  profeffed  to  be 
fmcere,  fhe  took  her  into  her  own  family,  and 
from  thence  recommended  her  to  Madame 
Du  Pont,  as  thinking  the  iituation  more  fu  it- 
able  for  a  woman  of  her  abilities.  But  Ma- 
damoifellc  pofTefTed  too  much  the  fpirit  of 
intrigue  to  remain  long  without  adventures. 
At  church,  where  fhe  conftantly  appeared, 
her  perfon  attracted  the  attention  of  a  young 
man  who  was  upon  a  vifit  at  a  gentleman's 
feat  in  the  neighborhood  :  fhe  had  met  him 
feveral  times  clandeftinely  ;  and  being  invit- 
ed to  come  out  that  evening,  and  eat  fomc 
fruit  and  paltry  in  a  fummer-houfe  belonging, 
to  the  gentleman  he  was  vihting,  and  re- 
quefted  to  bring  fome  of  the  ladies  with  her. 
Charlotte  being  her  favorite,  was  fixed  on  to 
accompany  her. 

The  mind  of  youth  eafily  catches  at  pro- 
mifed  pleafure  :  pure  and  innocent  by  nature, 
it  thinks  not  of  the  dangers  lurking  beneath 
tjiofe  pleafures,  till  too  late  to  avoid  them  ; 
when  Mademoifelle  aiked  Charlotte  to  go 
with  her,  fhe  mentioned  the  getleman  as  a 
relation,  and  ipoke  in.  fuch  high  terms  of  the^ 
elegance  of  his  gardens,  the  fprightliiiefs  of 
his  converfaticn,  and  the  liberality  with 
which  he  ever  entertained  his  guefts,  that 
Churl  cUe  thought  only  of  the  pleafure  fhe 
fhould  enjoy  in  the  vifit,...noton  the  impru- 
dence of  going  without  her  governefs's 
knowledge,  or  of  the  danger  to  which  Hie 


CHARLOTT  E.  8f 

expofed  herfelf  in  'vifiting  the  houfe  of  a  gay 
young  man  of  fafhion. 

Madame  Du  PSrti  had  gone  but  for  the 
evening: ;  and  the  reft  of  the  ladies  retired  to 
reft,  ivhen  Charlotte  and  the  teacher  Hole  out 
at  the  back  gate,  and  in  cr offing  the  field, 
were  accofted  by  Montraville,  as  mentioned 
in  the  firft  chapter. 

Charlotte  was  difappointed  in  the  pleafure 
fhe  had  promifed  herfelf  from  this  viiit.  The 
levit}T  of  the  gentlemen  and  the  freedom  of 
their  ccnverfation  difgufted  her.  She  was 
aftdnifned  at  the  liberties  Mademoifelle  per- 
mitted them  to  take  ;  grew  thoughtful  and 
uneafy,  and  heartily  wifhed  herfelf  at  home 
again  in  her  own  chamber. 

Perhaps  one  caufe  of  that  Wrifh  might  be," 
in  eameft  defire  to  fee  the  contents  of  the 
letter  which  had  been  put  into  her  hand  by 
Montraville. 

Any  reader,  who  has  the  leaft  knowledge 
of  the  world,  will  eafily  imagine  the  fetter 
■was  made  ur>  of  encomiums  on  her  beautv, 
and  vows  of  cverlafting  love  and  constancy  ; 
nor  will  he  be  furprifed  that  a  heart  open  to 
every  gentle,  generous  fentinient,  mould  feel 
iffelf  warmed  by  gratitude  for  a  man  who 
profeffed  to  feel  fo  much  for  her  ;  nor  is  it 
improbable  that  her  mind   might  revert   to 


40  CHARLOTTE. 

the  agreeable  perfon  and  martial  appearance 
of  Montravilie. 

In  affairs  of  love,  a  young  heart  is  never  in 
more  danger  than  when  attacked  by  a 
handfome  young  foldier.  A  man  of  indiffe- 
rent appearance,  will,  when  arrayed  in  a  mi- 
litary habit,  fhow  to  advantage  ;  but  when 
beauty  of  perfon,  elegance  of  manner,  and  an 
eafy  method  of  paying  compliments,  are  unit- 
ed to  the  fcarlet  coat,  fmart  cockade,  and 
military  faJh,  ah !  well-a-day  for  the  poor 
girl  who  gazes  on  him  :  (he  is  in  imminent 
danger  ;  but  if  fhe  linens  to  him  with  plea- 
fure,  'tis  all  over  with  her,  and  from  that 
moment  fhe  has  neither  eyes  nor  ears  for  any 
other  object. 

Now,  my  dear  fober  matron,  (if  a  fober 
matron  ihould  deign  to  turn  over  thefe  pages, 
before  fhe  trufts  them  to  the  eye  of  a  darling 
daughter,)  let  me  entreat  you  not  to  put  on  a 
grave  face  and  throw  down  the  book  in  a 
paffion,  and  declare  'tis  enough  to  turn  the 
heads  of  half  the  girls  in  England  ;  I  do  fo- 
lemnly  proteft,  my  dear  madam,  I  mean  no 
more  by  what  I  have  here  advanced,  than  to 
ridicule  thofe  romantic  girls,  who  foolifhly 
imagine  a  red  coat  and  a  filver  epaulet  con- 
ftitute  the  fine  gentleman  ;  and  fhould  that 
fine  gentleman  make  half  a  dozen  fine  fpeech- 
es  to  them,  they  will  imagine  themfelves 
fo  much  in  love  as  to  fancy  it  a  meritorious 


CHA&LdTTE.  41 

action  to  jump  out  of  a  two  pair  of  ftairs  win- 
dow, abandon  their  friends, and  truft  entirely 
to  the  honor  of  a  man,  who  perhaps  hardly 
knows  the  meaning  of  the  word,  and,  if  he 
does,  will  be  too  much  the  modern  man  of 
refinement,  to  practice  it  in  their  favor. 

Gracious  heaven !  when  I  think  on  the 
miferies  that  rauft  rend  the  heart  of  a  dcating 
parent,  when  he  fees  the  darling  of  his  age 
at  firft  feduced  from  his  protection,  and  after- 
wards abandoned,  by  the  very  wretch  whofe 
promifes  of  love  decoyed  her  from  the  pater- 
nal roof . .  .when  he  fees  her  poor  and  wretch- 
ed, her  bofom  torn  between  remorfe  for  her 
crime  and  love  for  her  vile  betrayer.... when 
fancy  paints  to  me  the  good  old  man  {looping 
to  raife  the  weeping  penitent,  while  every 
tear  from  her  eye  is  numbered  by  drops  from 
his  bleeding  heart,  my  bofom  glows  with 
honeft  indignation,  and  I  wiili  for  power  to 
extirpate  thofe  monflers  of  feduclion  from 
the  earth. 

Oh,  my  dear  girls.... for  tofuch  only  am  I 
writing — liften  not  to  the  voice  of  love,  un- 
lefs  fanclioned  by  paternal  approbation  :  be 
allured,  it  is  now  paftthe  days  of  romance  : 
no  woman  can  be  run  away  with  contrary  to 
her  own  inclination  :  then  kneel  down  each 
morning,  and  requeft  kind  heaven  to  keep 
you  free  from  temptation,  or,  mould  it  pleafe 
to  fuffer  you  to  be  tried,  pray  for  fortitude  to 
d  2 


42  CHARLOTTE. 

refill  the  impulfe  of  inclination  when  it  runs 
counter  to  the  precepts  qf  religion  and  virtue. 


CHARLOTTE.  48 

CHAPTER    VII. 


NATURAL    SENSE   OF   PROPRIETY   INHE- 
RENT IN  THE  FEMALE  BOSOM. 

li  JL  cannot  think  we  have  done  exactly 
right  in  going  out  this  evening,  Mademoi- 
felle,"  faid  Charlotte,  feating  herfelf  when  The 
entered  her  apartment :  "  nay,  I  am  fure  it 
was  not  right ;  for  I  expected  to  be  very 
happy,  but  was  fadly  difappointed." 

"  It  was  your  own  fault,  then,"  replied 
Mademoifelle  :  "  for  I  am  fure  my  coufm 
omitted  nothing  that  could  ferve  to  render 
th£  evening  agreeable." 

"  True,"  faid  Charlotte  :  "but  I  thought 
the  gentlemen  were  very  free  in  their  man- 
ner :  I  wonder  you  would  fuffer  them  to  be- 
have as  they  did." 

"  Prithee,  don't  be  fuch  a  foolifli  little 
prude,"  faid  the  artful  woman,  affecting  an- 
ger :  "I  invited  you  to  go,  in  hopes  it  would 
divert  you,  and  be  an  agreeable  change  of 
fcene  ;  however,  if  your  delicacy  was  hurt 
by  the  behaviour  of  the  gentlemen,  you  need 
not  go  again;  fo  there  let  it  reit.'^ 


44  CHARLOTTE. 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  go  again, "  faid  Char- 
lotte, gravely  taking  off  her  bonnet,  and  be- 
ginning to  prepare  for  bed  :  "I  am  fure,  if 
Madame  Du  Pont  knew  we  had  been  out  to 
night,  ihc  would  be  very  angry  ;  and  it  is  ten 
to  one  but  fhe  hears  of"  it  by  ibme  means  or 
other." 

1  'Nay,  Mifs,"  faid  La  Rue,  "perhaps 
your  mighty  fcnfc  of  propriety  may  lead  you 
to  tell  her  yourfelf :  and  in  order  to  avoid  the 
ccnfurc  you  would  incur,  fhould  flie  hear 
of  it  by  accident,  throw  the  bkine  on  me  : 
but  I  cor.fcfs  I  defervc  it :  it  y:ill  be  a  very 
kind  return  for  that  partiality  which  led -me 
to  prefer  you  before  any  of  the  reft  of  the  la- 
dies ;  but  perhaps  it  will  give  you  pleafure," 
continued  fhe,  letting  fall  fome  hypocritical 
tears,  "to  fee  me  deprived  of  bread,  and, 
for  an  a£lion  which  by  the  moil  rigid  could 
only  be  efieemed  an  inadvertency,  lofe  my 
place  and  character,  and  be  driven  again  in- 
to the  world,  where  I  have  already  filtered 
all  the  evils  attendant  on  poverty." 

This,  was  touching  Charlotte  in  the  nicfl 
vulnerable  part ;  me  rofe  from  her  feat,  and. 
taking  MaGernoifeuVs  hand...."  you  know, 
my  dear  La  Rue,"  faid  (ha,  "  I  love  you  too 
wen,  to  do  any  thing  that  would  injure  you 
inmv  go vemefs\s  opinion  :  I  am  onlvforrv 
we  went  otit  this  eVeninp  * 


'6 


A  tai 


CHARLOTTE.  45 

u  I  don't  believe  it,  Charlotte,"  faid  fhe 
affuming  a  little  vivacity  ;  "  for  if  you  had 
not  gone  out,  )rou  would  not  have  feen  the 
gentleman  who  met  us  crofiing  the  field ; 
and  I  rather  think  you  were  pleafed  with  his 
conversation." 

"  I  had  feen  him  once  before,"  replied 
Charlotte,  "  and  thought  him  an  agreeable 
man  ;  and  you  know  one  is  always  pleafed  to 
fee  a  perfon  with  whom  one  has  paffed  feve- 
ral  cheerful  hours.  But,"  faid  fhe,  paufmg, 
and  drawing  the  letter  from  ker  pocket, 
while  a  gentle  fuSufion  of  vermillion  tinged 
her  neck  and  face,  "he  gave  me  this  letter  : 
What  (hall  I  do  with  it  :" 

"  Read  it,  to  be  fure,"  returned  Made- 
moifelle. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  ought  not,"  faid  Charlotte : 
"  my  mother  has  often  told  me,  I  fhduld  ne- 
ver read  a  letter  given  me  by  a  young  man, 
without  firil  giving  it  to  her." 

"  Lord  blcfs  you,  my  dear  girl,"  cried  the 
teacher  fmiling,  "  have  you  a  mind  to  be  in 
leading1  firings  all  your  life  time  ?  Prithee 
open  tl>e  letter,  read  it,  and  judge  for  your- 
f  .'f ;  if  you  (how  it  to  your  mother,  the  con- 
fequence  will  be,  you  will  be  taken  from 
fchool,  and  a  Uriel  guard  kept  over  you  :  fo 
you  will  Hand  no  chance  of  ever  feeing  the- 
fmart  young  officer  again. 


46  C  H  A  RJLlO  T  T  E. 

"  I  fliould  not  like  to  leave  fchool  yet," 
replied  Charlotte,  "  till  I  have  attained  a 
greater  proficiency  in  my  Italian  and  munc. 
But  )*ou  can,  if  you  pleafe,  Mademoifelle, 
take  the  letter  back  to  Montraviile,  and  tell 
him  I  wilh  him  well,  but  cannot,  with  'any 
propriety,  enter  into  a  clancleftine  correspon- 
dence with  him."  She  laid  the  letter  on  the 
table,  and  began  to  undrefs  herfeif. 

"  Well,"  faid  La  Rue,  "  I  vow  you  are 
an  unaccountable  girl  :  have  you  no  ciirion- 
ty  to  fee  the  infide  now  ?  For  my  part  I  could 
no  more  let  a  letter -addreifed  to  me  lie  itn- 
opened  fo  long,  than  I  could  work  miracles  ; 
he  writes  a  good  hand,"  continued  fhe,  turn* 
ing  the  letter,  to  look  at  the  faperfcription. 

" 'Tis   well  enough,"     faid    Charlotte, 
drawing  it  towards  her. 

"  He  h  a  genteel  young  fellow,"  faid  La 
Rue,  carelefsly  folding  trp  her  apron  at  the 
fame  time  ;  u  but  I  think  he  is  marked  with 
the  fmall  pox." 

"  O  you  are  greatly  mi Raken,"  faid  Char- 
lotte, eagerly ';'  :"he  fra*s  a  remarkable'  dear 
{kin  and  fine  complexion." 

'"'His  "'eyes,  if  l  could  judge  bv  what  I 
faw,"  faid  La  Hue,  "  are  g?zy,  and  want  ex- 
prefnen." 


GHARL.OTT  E.  47 

"By  no  means,"  replied  Charlotte;  "they 
are  the  molt  exprefiive  eyes  I  ever  faw." 

"  Well,  child,  whether  they  are  grey  or 
black  is  of  no  confequence  ;  you  have  de- 
termined net  to  read  his  letter  ;  fo  it  is  like- 
ly 3-011  .will  never  either  fee  or  hear  from  him 
again." 

Charlotte  took  up  the  letter  and  MademoU 
felle  continued 

"  He  is  moll  probably  going  to  America  : 
and  if  ever  you  fhouid  hear  any  account  of 
him,  it  may  pombly  be,  that  he  is  killed  ; 
and  though  he  loved  you  ever  fo  fervently, 
though  his  lafc  breath  fho.uld  be  fpent  in  a 
prayer  for  your  happinefs,  it  can  be  nothing 
to  you:  you  can  feel  Nothing  for  the  fate  of 
the  man,  whofe  letters  you  will  not  open,  and 
whofe  fufferings  you  will  not  alleviate,  by 
permitting  him  to  think  you  would  remem- 
ber 'him  when  abfent,  and  pray  for  his  fafety." 

Charlotte  ilill  held  the  letter  in  her  hand: 
her  heart  fwelled  at  the  concluficn  of  Made* 
mqiielie's  fpeech,  and  a  tear  dropped  upon 
the  wafer  that  clcfed  it. 

"  The  wafer  is  not  dry  yet,"  faid  fhe, 

"  and  fure  there  can  be  no  great  harm " 

She  hefitated.  La  Rue  was  fiient.  "  I  may 
read,  it  Macemcifelle,  and  return  it  after- 
wards." 


48  C  II  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mademoifellc. 


"  At  any  rate  I  am  determined  not  to  an- 
fwer  it,"  continued  Charlotte,  as  ihe  opened 
the  letter. 

Here  let  me  flop  to  make  one  remark,  and 
truft  me  my  very  heart  aches  while  I  write 
it ;  but  certain  I  am,  that  when  once  a  wo- 
man has  ftifled  the  fenfe  of  fhame  in  her  own 
bofom,  when  once  fhe  has  loft  fight  of  the  ba- 
ns on  which  reputation,  honor,  every  thing 
that  fhould  be  dear  to  the  female  heart,  refts, 
flie  grows  hardened  in  guilt,  and  will  fpare 
no  pains  to  bring  down  innocence  and  beau- 
ty to  the.  fhocking  level  with  herfelf :  and 
this  proceeds  from  that  diabolical  fpirit  of 
envy,  which  repines  at  feeing  another  in  the 
fullpoflfeffion  of  that  refpecl:  and  eileem  which 
fhe  can  no  longer  hope  to  enjoy. 

Mademoifellc  eyed  the  unfufpecYmg  Char- 
lotte, as  fhe  perufed  the  letter,  with  a  malig- 
nant pleafure.  She  faw  that  the  contents 
had  awakened  new  emotions  in  her  youthful 
bofom  :  fhe  encouraged  her  hopes,  calmed 
her  fears,  and  before  they  parted  for  the 
night,  it  was  determined  that  (he  fhould 
meet  Montraville  in  the  enfuing  evening. 


CHARLOTTE.  49 


— 3=>tC$€g>S&^^®3$QOGO&*- 


CHAPTER        VIII. 


DOMESTIC  PLEASURE   PLANNED. 

44 1  think,  my  dear,"  faid  Mrs.  Temple, 
laying  her  hand  on  her  hufband's  arm,  as  they 
were  walking  together  in  the  garden,  "  I 
think  next  Wednefday  is  Charlotte's  birth 
day  :  now  I  have  formed  a  little  fcheme  in 
my  own  mind,  to  give  her  an  agreeable  fur- 
prife  ;  and  if  you  have  no  objection,  we  will 
fend  for  her  home  on  that  day."  Temple 
preffedhis  wife's  hand,  in  token  of  approba- 
tion, and  Die  proceeded — u  You  know  the 
little  alcove  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  of 
which  Charlotte  is  fo  fond  ?  I  have  an  incli- 
nation to  deck  this  out  in  a  fanciful  man* 
ner,  and  invite  all  her  little  friends  to  partake 
of  a  collation  of  fruit,  fweatmeats,  and  other 
things  fuitable  to  the  general  tafte  of  young 
guefts  ;  and  to  make  it  more  pleafing  to 
Charlotte,  ihe  {hall  be  miftrefs  of  the  feafl, 
and  entertain  her  viiitors  in  this  alcove.  I 
know  fhe  will  be  delighted  ;  and,  to  com- 
yoL.    1.  E 


50  CHARLOTTE. 

plete  all,  they  fhall  have  fome  inufic,   and 
finifh  with  a  dance." 

"  A  very  fine  plan  indeed,"  faid  Temple, 
fmiling  ;  "  and  you  really  fuppofe  I  will  wink 
at  your  indulging  the  girl  in  this  manner  ? 
You  will  quite  fpoil  her,  Lucy,  indeed  you 
will." 

*'  She  is  the  only  child  we  have,"  faid 
Mrs.  Temple,  the  whole  tendernefs  of  a 
mother  adding  animation  to  her  fine  counte- 
nance ;  but  it  was  withal  tempered  fo  fweet- 
ly  with  the  meek  affection  and  kind  compli- 
ance of  the  wife,  that,  as  fhe  paufed,  expect- 
ing her  hufband's  anfwer,  he  gazed  at  her 
tenderly,  and  found  he  was  unable  to  refufe 
her  requeft, 

*'  She  is  a  good  girl,"  faid  Temple. 

"  She  is,  indeed,"  replied  the  fond  mo- 
ther exultingly,  "  a  grateful,  affectionate 
girl ;  and  I  am  fure  will  never  lofe  fight  of 
the  duty  fhe  owes  her  parents." 

"  If  fhe  does,"  faid  he,  "  fhe  muft  forget 
the  example  fctherby  the  belt  of  mothers." 

Mrs.  Temple  could  not  reply ;  but  the 
delightful  fenfation  that  dilated  her  heart, 
fparkled  in  her  intelligent  eyes,  and  height- 
ened the  vermillion  on  her  cheeks. 


CHARLOTTE.  51 

Of  all  the  pleasures  of  which  the  human 
mind  is  lenfible,  there  is  none  equal  to  that 
which  warms  and  expands  the  bcfom,  when 
we  are  liftening  to  commendations  bellowed 
upon  us  by  a  beloved  object,  and  are  con- 
fcious  of  havinsr  defer ved  them, 

o 

Ye  giddy  flatterers  in  the  fantaflic  round 
of  diffipation,  who  eagerly  feek  pleafure  in 
the  lofty  dome,  rich  treat,  and  midnight  re- 
vel— tell  me,  thoughtlefs  daughters  of  folly, 
have  you  ever  found  the  phantom  you  have 
fo  long  fought  with  fuch  unremitted  affi- 
duity  ?  Has  fhe  not  always  eluded  your 
grafp,  and,  when  you  have  reached  your  hand 
to  take  the  cup  fhe  extends  to  her  deluded 
votaries,  have  you  not  found  the  long  ex- 
pected draught  ftrongly  tinctured  with  the 
bitter  dregs  of  difappointment  ?  I  know  you 
have  :  I  fee  it  in  the  wan  cheek,  funk  cyey 
and  air  of  chagrin,  which  ever  mark  the 
children  of  diffipation.  Pleafure  is  a  vain 
iilufion  ;  fhe  draws  you  on  to  a  thoufand  fol- 
lies, errors,  and  1  may  fay  vices,  and  then 
leaves  you  to  deplore  your  thoughtlefs  cre- 
dulity. • 

Look,  my  dear  friends,  at  yonder  loveU- 
Virgin,  arrayed  in  a  white  robe,  devoid  of 
ornament  ;  behold  the  meeknefs  of  her  coun- 
tenance, the  modefty  of  her  gait  ;  her  hand- 
maids are  Humility ,  Filial 'Piety,  Conjugal 
JJ'ccttd'i,    Industry  and  Benevolence ;  he? 


52  C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E.. 

name  is  Content  ;  (he  holds  in  her  hand  the' 
cup  of  true  felicity,  and  when  once  you  hare 
formed  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  thei'e 
her  attendants,  nay,  you  muft  admit  them  as 
your  bofom  friends  and  chief  counfellors, 
then,  whatever  may  be  your  iituation  in  life, 
the  meek  eyed  Virgin  w(Bl  immediately  take 
up  her  abode  with  you. 

Is  poverty  your  portion  ? — fne  will  light- 
ten  your  labors,  preiide  at  your  frugal  board, 
and  watch  your  quiet  (lumbers. 

Is  your  flate  mediocrity  ? — fhe  will  heigh- 
ten every  bleffing  you  enjoy,  by  informing 
you  how  grateful  you  fhoulcl  be  to  that  boun- 
tiful Providence  who  might  have  placed  you 
m  the  moft  abject  fituation  ;  and,  by  teach- 
ing you  to  weigh  your  blefhngs  againft  your 
deferts,  fhow  you  how  much  more  you  re> 
ceive,  than  you  have  a  right  to  expect. 

Are  you  poffefied  of  affluence  ? — what  an 
inexhauftible  fund  of  happinefs  will  (lie  lay 
before  you  !  To  relieve  the  diitreffed,  re- 
clrefsthe  injured,  in  fhort,  to  perform  all  the 
good  works  of  peace  and  mercy. 

Content,  my  dear  friends,  will  blunt  even 
the  arrows  of  advcifity,  fo  that  they  cannot 
materially  harm  you.  She  will  dwell  in  the 
humbled  cottage  :  (lie  will  attend  you  even 
to  a  prifon.     Her  parent  is   religion  ;   her 


C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E4  5JS 

lifters,  Patience  and  Hope.  She  will  pais 
with  you  through  life,  fmoothing  the  rough 
paths,  and  treading  to  earth  thole  thorns 
which  every  one  mult  meet  with  as  thcv 
journey  onward  to  the  appointed  goal.  She 
will  foften  the  pains  of  hcknels,  continue 
with  you  even  in  the  cold  gloomy  hour  of 
death,  and,  cheering  you  with  the  fmiles  of 
her  heaven-born  filter,  Hope,  lead  you  tri- 
umphantly to  a  blifsful  eternity. 

I  confefs  I  have  rambled  ftrangely  from  my 
ftory  :  but  what  of  that  ?  if  I  have  been  ic? 
lucky  as  to  find  the  road  to  happinefs,  why 
fhould  I  be  fuch  a  niggard  as  to  omitfo  good 
an  opportunity  of  pointing  o/ut  the  way  to 
others  !  the  very  bails  of  true  peace  of  mind 
is  a  benevolent  wifhi  to  fee  all  the  world  as 
happy  as  onc^s  felf ;  and  from  my  foul  do  I 
pity  the  felfifh  churl,  who,  remembering  the 
little  bickerings  of  anger,  envy,  and  fifty 
other  difagreeables  to  which  frail  mortality 
is  fubjeci,  would  wifh  to  avenge  the  affront 
which  pride  whifpers  him  he  has  received* 
For  my  own  part,  I  can  fafely  declare,  there 
is  not  a  human  being  in  the  univerfe,  whofe 
proiberity  I  fhould  not  rejoice  in,  and  to 
whofe  happinefs  I  would  not  contribute  to 
the  utmolt  limit  of  my  power  :  and  may  my 
offences  be  no  more  remembered  in  the  day 
of  general  retribution,  than  as  from  my  foul 
I  forgive  every  offence  or  injury  received 
from  a  fellow  creature. 
£  2 


54  CHARLOTTE. 

Merciful  heaven !  who  would  exchange 
the  rapture  of  fuch  a  reflection  for  all  the 
gaudy  tinfel  which  the  world  calls  pleafure. 

But  to  return. — Content  dwelt  in  Mrs. 
Temple's  bofom,  and  fpread  a  charming 
animation  over  her  countenance,  as  her  huf- 
band  led  her  in,  to  lay  the  plan  fhe  had  form^ 
ed  (for  the  celebration  of  Charlotte's  birth- 
day,) before  Mr.  Eldridge. 


CHARLOTTE.  55 

CHAPTER     IX. 


WE  KNOW  NOT  WHAT  A  DAY  MAY  BRING 
FORTH. 

V  a  mo  us  were  the  fenfations  which  agitat- 
ed the  mind  of  Charlotte,  during  the  day  pre- 
ceding the  evening  in  which  fhe  was  to  meet 
Moiitraville,  Several  times  did  fhe  almoft 
refolve  to  go  to  her  governefs,  (how  her  his 
letter,  and  be  guided  by  her  advice:  but 
Charlotte  had  taken  one  fcep  in  the  ways  of 
imprudence  ;  and  when  that  is  once  done, 
there  are  always  innumerable  obftacles  to 
prevent  the  erring  perfon  returning  to  the 
path  of  rectitude  :  yet  thefe  obllacles,  how- 
ever forcible  they  may  appear  in  general, 
exill  chiefly  in  the  imagination. 

Charlotte  feared  the  anger  of  her  gover- 
nefs :  fhe  loved  her  mother,  and  the  very 
idea  of  incurring  her  difpleafure,  gave  her 
the  greateit  uneafmefs  ;  but  there  was  a  more 
forcible  reafon  fall  remaining  :  fhould  fhe 
ihow  the  letter  to  Madame  du  Pont,  fhe  mull 
confefs  the  means  by  which  it  came  into  her 


56  CHARLOTTE. 

poiTefiiOii ;  and  what  would  be  the  confe- 
quence  ?  Mademoifelle  would  be  turned  out 
of  doors. 

"  I  mull  not  be  ungrateful,' '  laid  fhe,"  La 
Rue  is  very  kind  to  me  ;  befides  I  can,  when 
1  fee  Montraville,  inform  him  of  the  impro- 
priety of  our  continuing  to  fee  or  correfpond 
with  each  other,  and  requeft  him  to  come 
no  more  to  Chichefter." 

However  prudent  Charlotte  might  be  in 
thefe  refoiutions,  ihe  ccrtainlv  did  not  take 
a  proper  method  to  confirm  herfelf  in  them. 
Several  times,  in  the  courfe  of  the  day,  fhe 
indulged  herfelf  in  reading  over  the  letter, 
and  each  time  (he  read  it,  the  contents  funk 
deeper  in  her  heart.  As  ^evening  drew  near, 
ihe  caught  herfelf  frequently  confulting  her 
watch.  "  I  vvilli  this  fooliifi  meeting  was 
over,"  faid  fhe,  by  way  of  apology  to  her 
own  heart,  "  I  wifh  it  was  over ;  for  when 
I  have  feen  him,  and  convinced  him  that  my 
refolution  is  not  to  be  fhaken,  I  (hall  feel  my 
mind  much  eafier." 

The  appointed  hour  arrived.  Charlotte 
and  Mademoifelle  dueled  the  eye  of  vigr- 
lance  ;  and  Montraville  who  had  waited  their 
coming  with  impatience,  received  them  with 
rapturous  and  unbounded  acknowledgments 
for  their  condefcention  :  he  had  wifely 
brought  Belcour  with  him,  to  entertain  Mfe 


CHARLOTTE.  57 

demoifelle,  while  he  enjoyed  im  uninterrupt- 
ed converfation  with  Charlotte. 

Belcoiir  was  a  man  whofe  character  might 
be  comprifed  in  a  few  words  ;  and  as  he 
will  make  fome  fissure  in  the  enfuing  pages, 
I  lhall  here  defcribe  him.  He  poiTefTed  a 
genteel  fortune,  and  had  had  a  liberal  edu- 
cation ;  difiipated,  thoughtless,  and  caprici- 
ous, he  paid  little  regard  to  the  moral  duties, 
and  lefs  to  religious  ones  :  eager  in  the  pur- 
fuit  of  pleafure,  he  minded  not  the  miferies 
he  inflicted  on  others,  provided  his  own 
wifhes,  however  extravagant,  wrere  gratified. 
Self,  darling  felf  was  the  idol  he  worfhiped, 
and  to  that  he  would  have  facriiiced  the  in- 
tereft  and  happinefs  of  all  mankind.  Such 
was  the  friend  of  Montraville  :  will  not  the 
reader  be  ready  to  imagine,  that  the  man 
who  could  regard  fuch  a  character,  mud  be 
actuated  by  the  fame  feelings,  follow  the 
fame  purfuits,  and  be  equally  unworthy  with 
the  perfon  to  whom  he  thus  gave  his  confi- 
dence ? 

But  Montraville  was  a  different  eharacler  : 
generous  in  his  difpofition,  liberal  in  his 
opinions,  and  good  natured  almoft  to  a  fault ; 
yet  eager  and  impetuous  in  the  purfuit  of  a 
favorite  object,  he  ftaid  not  to  reflect  on  the 
confequence  which  might  follow  the  attain- 
ment of  his  willies  ;  with  a  mind  ever  open 
to  conviction,  had  he  been  fo  fortunate  as  to 


58  CHAR  L  O  T  T  E. 

pofTefs  a  friend  who  would  have  pointed  out 
the  cruelty  of  endeavoring  to  gain  the  heart 
of  an  innocent  artlefs  girl,  when  he  knew  it 
was  utterly  impomble  for  him  to  marry  her, 
and  when  the  gratification  of  his  paffion 
would  be  unavoidable  infamy  and  mifery  to 
her,  and  a  caufe  of  never-ceafing  remorfe  to 
himfelf  :  had  thefc  dreadful  confequences 
been  placed  before  him  in  a  proper  light,  the 
humanity  of  his  nature  would  have  urged  him 
to  give  up  the  purfuit  :  but  Belcour  was  not 
this  friend  ;  he  rather  encouraged  the  grow- 
ing paffion  of  Montraville  ;  and  being  pleafed 
with  the  vivacity  of  Mademoifelle,  refolved 
to  leave  no  argument  untried,  which  he 
thought  might  prevail  on  her  to  be  the  com- 
panion of  their  intended  voyage  :  and  he 
made  no  doubt  but  her  example,  added  to 
the  rhetoric  of  Montraville,  would  perfuade 
Charlotte  to  2ro  with  them. 

o 

Charlotte  had,  when  (he  went  out  to  meet 
Montraville,  flattered  herfeif,  that  her  refo- 
lution  was  not  to  be  fhaken,  and  that,  con- 
fcious  of  the  impropriety  of  her  conduct  in 
having  a  clandeftine  intercourfe  with  a  ftran- 
ger,  fhe  would  never  repeat  the  indifcretion. 

But  alas  poor  Charlotte  !  (lie  knew  not  the 
-deceilfulnefs  of  her  own  heart,  or  fhe  would 
have  avoided  the  trial  of  her  liability. 


CHARLOTTE.  59 

Montraville  was  tender,  eloquent,  ardent, 
and  yet  refpectful.  "  Shall  I  not  fee  you 
once  more,"  faid  he,  "before  I  leave  Eng- 
land ?  will  you  not  blefs  me  by  an  alfurance, 
that  when  we  are  divided  by  a  vail  expanfe 
of  fea,  I  fhallnot  be  forgotten  ?" 

Charlotte  fighed. 

"  Why  that  figh,  my  dear  Charlotte  ? 
could  I  flatter  myfelf  that  a  fear  for  my  fafety, 
or  a  wifli  for  my  welfare  occalioned  it,  how 
happy  would  it  make  me." 

"  I  fliall  ever  wifh  you  well,  Montraville," 
faid  Hie  ;  "  but*we  mull  meet  no  more." 

"  Oh  fay  not  fo,  my  lovely  girl  :  refiecl;, 
that  when  I  leave  my  native  land,  perhaps  a 
few  fhort  weeks  may  terminate  my  exiftence; 
the  perils  of  the  ocean... the  dangers  ofwar..', 

"  I  can  hear  no  more,"  faid  Charlotte  in 
a  tremulous  voice,  "  I  mull  leave  you." 

*'  Say  you  will  fee  me  once  again." 

"  I  dare  not,"  faid  fhe. 

*'  Only  for  one  half  hour  to-morrow  even- 
ing :  'tis  my  lafl  requeft.  I  fliall  never  trou- 
ble you  again,  Charlotte." 


60  CHARLOTTE. 

"  I  know  not  what  to  fay,"  cried  Char- 
lotte, ftruggling  to  draw  her  hands  from 
him  :   "  let  me  leave  you  now/' 

"  And  you  will  come  to-morrow,"  faid 
MontravUle. 

"  Perhaps  I  may,"  faid  flie. 

*'  Adieu,  then,  I  will  live  upon  that  hope, 
till  we  m.eet  again." 

He  kiffed  her  hand.  She  fighed  an  adieu, 
and  catching  hold  of  Mademoifelle^  arm, 
haftily  entered  the  garden  gate. 


CHARLOTTE,  61 


~<XW<X&Q<^£C0C&>0c^ 


GH4PTEK    X. 


WHEN  WE  HAVE  EXCITED  CURIOSITY,  IT  IS  BV? 
AN  ACT  OF  GOOD  NATURE  TO  GRATIFY  IT. 


IVloNTRAViLLE  was  the  youngefl  ion  of  a 
gentleman  of  fortune,  whofe  family  being- 
numerous,  he  was  obliged  to  bring  up  his 
fons  to  genteel  profefiions,  by  the  exercife 
of  which  they  might  hope  to  raife  themfelves 
into  notice. 

"My  daughters,"  faid  he,  *'  have  been 
educated  like  gentlewomen ;  and  fliould  I 
die  before  they  are  fettled,  they  muft  have 
fonie  provifion  made,  to  place  them  above 
the  fnares  and  temptations  which  vice  ever 
holds  out  to  the  elegant,  accomplished  fe- 
male, when  opprefTed  by  the  frowns  of  po- 
verty and  the  fting  of  dependence  :  my  boys* 
with  only  moderate  incomes,  when  placed 
in  the  church,  at  the  bar,  or  in  the  field,  may- 
exert  their  talents,  make  themfelves  friends, 
and  raife  their  fortunes  on  the  balls  of  merit. " 
vol.   1.  s 


62  CHARLOTTE. 

When  Montraville  chofe  the  profeffion  of 
arms,  his  father  preferred  him  with  a  com- 
mifiion,  and  made  him  a  handfome  provi- 
fion  for  his  private  purfe.  "  Now,  my  boy," 
faid  he,  "  go !  feek  glory  in  the  field  of  bat- 
tle. You  have  received  from  me  all  I  ihall 
ever  have  it  in  my  power  to  beftow  :  it  is 
certain  I  have  intereft  to  gain  yon  promotion ; 
but  be  allured  that  that  intereft  fhall  never  be 
exerted,  unlefs  by  your  future  conduit  you 
deferve  it.  Remember  therefore  your  fuccefs 
in  life  depends  entirely  on  yourfelf.  Th#re 
is  one  thing  I  think  it  my  duty  to  caution 
5rou  againft  ;  the  precipitaney  with  which 
young  men  frequently  rufh  into  matrimonial 
engagements,  and  by  their  thoughtlefsnefs 
draw  many  a  deferving  woman  into  fcenes  of 
poverty  and  diftrefs,  A  foldier  has  no  bufi- ' 
nefs  to  think  of  a  wife,  till  his  rank  is  fuch 
as  to  place  him  above  the  fear  of  bringing 
into  the  world  a  train  of  helplefs  innocents, 
heirs  only  to  penury  and  affliction.  If,  in- 
deed, a  woman,  whofe  fortune  is  fufficient  to 
preferve  you  in  that  ftate  of  independence, 
which  I  would  teach  you  to  prize,  fhouid 
generouily  beftow  herfelf  on*  a  young  foldier, 
whqfe  chief  hope  of  future  profperity  de- 
pended on  his  fuccefs  in  the  field — if  fuch  a 
woman  fhouid  offer— every  barrier  is  re-. 
moved,  arid  I  fhouid  rejoice  in  an  union 
which  would  proniife  fe  much  felicity.  E 
mark  me,  boy,  if,  on  the  contrary,  you  rufh 
into  a  precipitate  union  with  a  girl  of  I 


C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E.  63 

or  no  fortune,  take  the  poor  creature  from  a 
comfortable  home,  and  kind  friends,  and 
plunge  her  into  all  the  evils  that  a  narrow  in- 
come and  encrealing  family  can  inflict,  1  will 
leave  you  to  enjoy  the  bleCfed  fruits  of  your 
rafhnefs  ;  for  by  all  that  is  facred,  neither  my 
intereft  or  fortune  fhall  ever  be  exerted  in 
your  favor.  I  am  ferious,"  continued  he  ; 
"  therefore  imprint  this  converfation  on  your 
memory,  and  let  it  influence  your  future  con- 
duel:.  Your  happinefs  will  always  be  dear 
to  me  ;  and  I  wiih  to  warn  you  of  a  rock  on 
which  the  peace  of  many  an  honeit  Fellow  has 
been  wrecked  ;  for  believe  me,  the  difficulties 
and  dangers  of  the  iongeft  winter  campaign 
are  much  eafier  to  be  borne  than  the  pangs 
that  would  feize  your  heart,  when  you  beheld 
the  woman  of  your  choice,  the  children  of 
your  affection,  *  involved  in  penury  and  dif- 
trefs,  and  reflected  that  it  was  your  own  folly 
and  precipitancy  had  been  the  prime  caufe 
of  their  funering." 

As  this  converfation  paffed  but  a  few- hours 
before  Montraville  took  leave  of  his  father, 
it  was  deeply  impreffed  on  his  mind  :  when, 
therefore,  Belcour  "came  with  him  to  the 
place  of  affignation  with  Charlotte,  he  di- 
rected him  to  enquire  of  the  French  woman 
what  were  Mifs  Temple's  expectations  in 
regard  to  fortune. 

'  S 


64  CHARLOTTE. 

Mademoifelle  informed  him,  that  thought 
Charlotte's  father  poffeffed  a  genteel  inde- 
pendence, it  was  by  no  means  probable  that 
he  could  give  his  daughter  more  than  a 
thoufand  pounds  ;  and  in  cafe  fhe  did  not 
marry  to  his  liking,  it  was  poflible  he  might 
not  give  her  a  hngle  sous  ;  nor  did  it  appear 
the  leaft  likely,  that  Mr.  Temple  would  agree 
to  her  union  with  a  young  man  on  the  point 
of  embarking  for  the  feat  of  war. 

Montraville  therefore  concluded  it  was 
impomble  he  lliould  ever  marry  Charlotte 
Temple  ;  and  what  end  he  propofed  to  him- 
felf  by  continuing  the  acquaintance  he  had 
commenced  with  her,  he  did  not  at  that  mo* 
gjaient  give  himfelf  time  to  enquire*. 


C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E.  05 

CHAPTER     XI. 


CONFLICT  OF  LOVE  AND  DUTY. 

Almost  a  week  was  now  gone,  and  Char- 
lotte continued  every  evening  to  meet  Mon- 
traville,  and  in  her  heart  every  meeting  was 
reiblved  to  be  the  lait ;  but  alas  !  when  Mon- 
travilie  at  parting,  would  earneflly  entreat  one 
more  interview,  that  treacherous  heart  be- 
.  frayed  her  ;  and  forgetful  of  its  refolutlon, 
pleaded  the  caufe  of  the  enemy  fo  powerfully, 
that  Charlotte  was  unable  to  refill.  Another 
and  another  meeting  fucceeded  ;  and  fo  well 
did  Montraville  improve  each  opportunity, 
that  the  heedlefs  girl  at  length  confeffed  no 
idea  could  be  fo  painful  to  her  as  that  of  ne- 
ver feeing  him  agaiii. 

"•  Then  we  will  never  be  parted,"  faid  he. 

"  Ah,  Montraville,"  replied  Charlotte, 
forcing  a  fmile,  "  how  can  it  be  avoided  ? 
My  parents  would  never  confent  to  our  uni- 
on ;  and  even  could  they  be  brought  to  ap- 
prove of  it,  how  fhould  I  bear  to  be  feparated 
from  my  kind,  my  beloved  mother  :" 

"  Then  yo.i  love  your  parents  more  than 
you  do  me,  Charlotte  ?" 

"  I  hope  I  do,"  faid  (he,  blufhmg  and 
looking  down,  "I  hope  my  affection  for  them 
will  ever  keep  me  from  infringiiikg  the  laws 
of  filial  duty." 

s  2 


$6  CHARLOTTE 

"  Well,Charlotte,"faidMontraville  grave- 
ly, and  letting  go  her  hand,  "  fince  that  is  the: 
cafe,  I  find  I  have  deceived  myfelf  with  falla- 
cious hopes.  I  had  flattered  my  fond  heart, 
that  I  was  dearer  to  Charlotte  than  any  thing 
in  the  world  befide.  I  thought  that  you  would 
for  my  fake  have  braved  the  dangers  of  the 
ocean,  that  you  would,  by  your  affection  and 
fmiles,  have  foftened  the  hardfhips  of  war, 
and,  had  it  been  my  fate  to  fall,  that  your 
tendernefs  would  chear  the  hour  of  death, 
and  fmooth  my  paffage  to  another  world. 
But  farewell,  Charlotte  !  I  fee  you  never  lov- 
ed me.  I  fhall  now  welcome  the  friendly  ball 
that  deprives  me  of  the  fenfe  of  my  mifery."' 

"Oh Hay, unkind  Montravillle,"  cried  fhe, 
catching  hold  of  his  arm,  as  he  pretended  to 
leave  her,  "  (lay,  and  to  calm  your  fears,  I 
will  here  proteft,  that  was  it  not  for  the  fear  of 
giving  pain  to  the  belt  of. parents,  and  return- 
ing their  kindnefs  with  ingratitude,  I  would 
follow  you  through  every  danger,  and,  in  Ru- 
dy ing  to  promote  your  happinefs,  infure  my 
own.  But  I  cannot  break  my  mother's  heart, 
Montraville  ;  I  muft  not  bring  the  grey  hairs 
of  my  doatinggrand- father  withforrow  to  the 
grave ,  or  make  my  beloved  father  perhaps  cu  rfe 
the  hour  that  gave  me  birth."'  She  covered 
Iter  face  with  her  hands,  and  burft  into  tears., 

"  All  thefe  diftreifing  fcenes,  my  dear 
Charlotte,"  cried  Montraville,  "  are  merely 
the  chimeras  of  a  difturbed  fancy.  Your  pa- 
sents  might  perhaps  grieve  at .fir.lt  >    bilk 


CHARLOTTE.  6T 

when  they  heard  from  your  own  hand,  that 
you  was  with  a  man  of  honor,  and  that  it  was 
to  enfure  your  felicity  by  an  union  with  him, 
to  which  you  feared  they  would  never  have 
given  their  affent,  that  you  left  their  protec- 
tion, they  will,  be  afiured,  forgive  an  error 
which  love  alone  occafioned,  and  when  we 
return  from  America,  receive  you  with  o.pen 
arms  and  tears  of  joy," 

Belcour  and  Mademoifelle  heard  this  laft 
fpeech,  and  conceiving  it  a  proper  time  ta 
throw  in  their  advice  and  perfuafions,  ap- 
proached Charlotte,  and  lb  well  feconded  the 
intreaties  of  Montraville,  that  finding  Made- 
moifelle intended  going  with  Belcour,  and 
feeling  her  own  treacherous  heart  too  much 
inclined  to  accompany  them,  the  haplefs 
Charlotte,  commented  in  an  evil  hour  that  the 
next  evening  they  fhould  bring  a  chaife  to  the 
end  of  the  town,  and  that  ihe  would  leave  her 
friends,  and  throw  herfelf  entirely  on  the  pro- 
tection of  Montraville.  ct  But  fhould  you," 
faid  fhc,  looking  earneftly  at  him,  her  eyes 
full  of  tears,  "  fhould  you,  forgetful  of  your 
promifes,  and  repenting  the  engagements 
you  here  voluntarily  enter  into,  forfake  and 
ieave  me  on  a  foreign  iliore.— "' 

u  Judge  not  fo  meanly  of  me,"  faid  he.. 
**  The  moment  we  reach  our  place  of  defli- 
nation,  Hymen  fhall  fanctify  our  love  :  and 
when  I  fhall  forget  your  gpodnefs,  may  he.a>- 
^en  forget  me.." 


63  CHARLOTTE. 

44  Ah,"  faid  Charlotte,  leaning  on  Macle- 
raoii'eile's  arm,  as  they  walked  up  the  garden 
together,  "  I  have  forgot  ail  that  I  ought  to 
have  remembered,  in  contenting  to  this  in- 
tended elopement." 

44  You  are  aftrange  girl,"  faid  Mademoi- 
felle  :  "  you  never  know  your  own  mind  two 
minutes  at  a  time.  Juft  now  you  declared 
Montraville's  happinefs  was  whatyou  prized 
moft  in  the  world  ;  and  now  I  fuppofe  you 
repent  having  infured  that  happinefs  by 
agreeing  to  accompany  him  abroad." 

44  Indeed  I  do  repent,"  replied  Charlotte, 
44  from  my  foul :  but  while  difcretion  points 
out  the  impropriety  of  my  conducl,  inclina- 
tion urges  me  on  to  ruin." 

44  Ruin  !  fiddleftick  !"  faid  Mademoifelle  ; 
44  am  not  I  going  with  you  ?  and  do  1  feel 
any  of  thefe  qualms  ? ' ' 

44  You  do  not  renounce  a  tender  father 
and  mother,"  faid  Charlotte. 

44  But  I  hazard  my  dear  reputation,'1  re- 
plied Mademoifelle,  bridling. 

44  True,"  replied  Charlotte,  4i  but  you  do 
aiot  feel  what  1  do."  She  then  bade  her  good 
night  ;  but  ileep  was  a  ftranger  to  her  eyes, 
and  the  tear  ofar.guifh  watered  her  pillow. 


CHARLOTTE.  6* 


e  H  A  P  T  E  R     XII. 


Nature's  laft,  beft  gift  : 
Greature  in  whom  excell'd,  whatever  could 
To  fight  or  thought  be  aam'd  ! 
Holy,  divine  !  good,  amiable,  and  fweet, 
How  art  thou  fall'n  i 


VV  hen  Charlotte  left  her  reftlefs  bed,  her 
languid  eye,  and  pale  cheek,  difcovered  to- 
Madame  Du  Pont  the  little  repofe  ilie  had 
tailed. 

*'  My  dear  child,"  faid  the  aftectionate  go- 
vernefs,  "  what  is  the  caufe  of  the  languor  lb 
apparent  in  your  frame  ?  Are  you  not  well?'* 

44  Yes,  my  dear  Madam,  very  well,"  re- 
plied Charlotte,  attempting  to  fmile,  "  but  I 
know  not  how  it  was  ;  I  could  not  Deep  laft 
night,  and  my  fpirits  are  deprefled  this 
morning." 

"  Come,  cheer  up,  my  love,"  faid  the  go- 
vernefs  ;  "  1  believe  I  have  brought  a  cor- 
dial to  revive  them.  I  have  juft  received  a 
letter  from  your  good  mama,  and  here  is  one 
for  vourfelf." 


70  CHARLOTTE. 

Charlotte  haftily  took  the  letter  :  it  con- 
tained thefe  words  :  — 

"  As  to-morrow  is  the  anniverfary  of  the 
happy  day  that  gave  my  beloved  girl  to  the 
anxious  wifhes  of  a  maternal  heart,  I  have 
requeued  your  governefs  to  let  you  come 
home  and  fpend  it  with  us  ;  and  as  I  know 
you  to  be  a  good  affectionate  child,  and  make 
it  yourftudy  to  improve  in  thofe  branches  of 
education,  which  you  know  will  give  moft 
pleafure  to  your  delighted  parents,  as  a  re- 
ward for  your  diligence  and  attention,  I  have 
prepared  an  agreeable  furprize  for  your  re- 
ception. Your  grand- Either,  eager  to  em- 
brace the  darling  of  his  aged  heart,  will  come 
in  the  chaife  for  you  :  fo  hold  yourfelf  in  rea- 
dinefs  to  attend  him  by  nine  o'clock.  Your 
dear  father  joins  in  every  tender  wifh  for 
your  health  and  future  felicity,  which  warms 
the  heart  of  my  dear  Charlotte's  affectionate 
modier,  L.  TEMPLE. 

"  Gracious  heaven  !"  cried  Charlotte, 
forgetting  where  (lie  was,  and  raifing  her 
ftreaming  eyes  as  in  earned  Amplication. 

Madame  Du  Pont  was  furprifed.  "  Why 
thefe  tears,  my  love  ?"  faid  fhe.  "  Why 
this  feeming  agitation  ?  I  thought  the  letter 
would  have  rejoiced,  infteacl  of  cliftreffmg 
you." 


CHARLOTTE.  71 

"  It  does  rejoice  me,"  replied  Chatlotte, 
endeavoring  at  coinpofure,  "  but  I  was  pray- 
ing for  merit  to  deferve  the  unremitted  at- 
tentions of  the  beft  of  parents." 

"  You  do  right,"  faid  Madame  Du  Pont, 
"  to  a(k  the  affiilance  of  heaven  that  you  may 
continue  to  deferve  their  love.  Continue, 
my  dear  Charlotte,  in  the  courfe  you  have 
ever  purfued,  and  you  will  enfure  at  once 
their  happinefs  and  your  own." 

"  Oh  !"  cried  Charlotte,  as  her  governefs 
left  her,  "  I  have  forfeited  both  for  ever  ! 
Yet  let  me  reikcl  : — the  irrevocable  Hep  is 
not  yet  taken  :  it  is  net  too  late  to  recede 
from  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  from  which  I 
can  only  behold  the  dark  abyfsof  ruin,  {name 
and  remorie  !" 

She  arofe  from  her  feat,  and  flew  to  the 
fcpr.rtment  of  La  Brie.  "  Oh  Mademoifelle  !" 
laid  fhe,  4t  I  am  fnatched  by  a  miracle  from 
defiruclion  !  This  letter  has  faved  me  :  it  has 
opened  my  eyes  to  the  folly  I  wasfonear 
committing.  1  will  not  go,  MademoifeUe  ;  I 
tvill  not  wound  the  hearts  of  thofe  dear  pa- 
rents who  make  my  happinefs  the  w&o'le 
fludy  of  their  lives."  . 

"  Well,"  faid  Mademoifelle,  "  do  as  you 
jHeafe,  Mifs  ;  but  pray  underftand  that  my 
reTolution  is  taken,    and  it  is  not   in  your 


5?2  CHARLOTTE. 

power  to  alter  it.  I  fhall  meet  the  gentlemen 
at  the  appointed  hour,  and  fhall  not  be  fur- 
prized  at  any  outrage  which  Montraville 
may  commit,  when  he  finds  himfelf  difap- 
pointed.  Indeed  I  fhould  not  be  afloniihed, 
was  he  to  come  immediately  here,  and  re- 
proach you  for  your  inftability  in  the  hearing 
of  the  whole  fchool  :  and  what  will  be  the 
confequence  »?  you  will  bear  the  odium  of 
having  formed  the  refolution  of  eloping,  and 
every  girl  of  fpirit  will  laugh  at  your  want  of 
fortitude  to  put  it  in  execution,  while  prudes 
and  fools  will  load  you  with  reproach  and 
contempt.  You  will  have  loft  the  confidence 
of  your  parents,  incurred  their  anger,  and  the 
feoffs  of  the  world  ;  and  what  fruit  do  you 
expect  to  reap  from  this  piece  of  heroifm, 
(for  fuch  no  doubt  you  think  it  is  ?)  you  will 
have  the  pleafure  to  reflect,  that  you  have  de- 
ceived the  man  who  adores  you,  and  whom 
in  your  heart  you  prefer  to  all  other  men,  and 
that  you  are  feparated  from  him  for  ever." 

This  eloquent  harangue  was  given  with 
fuch  volubility,  that  Charlotte  couid  not  find 
an  opportunity  to  interrupt  her,  or  to  offer  a 
fingie  word  till  the  whole  was  finifhed,  and 
then  found  her  ideas  fo  confufed,  that  fhe 
knew  not  what  to  fay. 

At  length  fhe  determined  thatfhe  would  go 
with  Mademoifelle  to  the  place  of  aflignation, 
convince  Montraviile  of  the  neceinty  of  ad- 


CHARLOTT  E.  73 

'hering  to  the  refolution  of  remaining  behind  3 
*uTure  him  of  her  affedlion,and  bid  him  adieu* 

Charlotte  formed  this  plan  in  her  mind, 
•and  exulted  in  the  certainty  of  its  fnccefs. 
"  How  (hail  1  rejoice,"  faid  fhe,  "  in  this 
triumph  of  reafon  over  inclination,  and,  when 
-in  the  arms  of  my  affectionate  parents,  lift  up 
my  foul  in  gratitude  to.  heaven  as  I  look 
back  on  the  dangers  I  have  efcaped  P" 

The  hour  of  affignation  arrived  :  Made- 
moifelle  put  what  money  and  valuables  flic 
poifefled  in  her  pocket,  and  advifed Charlotte 
to  do  the  fame  ;  but  fhe  .refilled  ;  "my  re- 
folution is  fixed,"  .faid  fhe  ;  "  I  will  Sacrifice 
love  to  duty." 

Mademoifelle  fmiled  internallv  ;  and  thev 
proceeded  foftly  down  the  back  ftairs  and  out 
■of  the  garden  gate .  Montraville  aad  Jielc 0 ur 
were  ready  to  receive  them, 

"  Now,"  faid  Montraville,  taking  Char- 
lotte in  his  arms,   "you  are  mine  forever." 

"No,"  faid  (lie,  withdrawing  from  his 
-embrace,  "  I  am  come  to  take  an  everiafimg 
farewell." 

It  would  be  ufelefs  to  repeat  the  conver- 
sation that  here  enfued  ;  fuffi.ce  it  to  fay,  that 
Montraville  ufsd  every   argument  that  had 
vol.   1.  G 


r#4  CHARLOTTE. 

formerly  been  TuccefsFul,  Charlotte's  refolu- 
<ion  began  to  waver,  and  he  drew  her  almoft 
imperceptibly  towards  the  chaife. 

"  I  cannot  go,"  faid  fhe  :  "  ceafe,  dear 
•Montraville,  to  perfuade.  I  muft  not :  reli- 
gion, duty,  forbid." 

*  Cruel  Charlotte,"  faid  he,  "if  you  dik 
Appoint  my  ardent  hopes,  by  all  that  is  fa- 
vored, this  hand  fhall  put  a  period  to  my  ex- 
iflence.  I  cannot — will  not  live  without 
you." 

<*  Alas!  my  torn  heart !"  faid  Charlotte,, 
iiow  fhall  I  aa  ?" 

c'  Let  me  direct  you,"  faid  Montraville, 
lifting  her  into  the  chaife. 

"  Oh  !  my  dear  forfaken  parents  !"  cried 
Charlotte. 

The  chaife  drove  of.  She  fhrieked,  an.4 
fainted  into  the  arms  of  her  betrayer. 


€  H  A  R  LOT  T  E..  7& 


H  A  P'T  E  R     XIII,. 


GRUEL  DISAPPOINTMENT: 

**  W  hat  pleafure,"'  cried  Mr.  Eidridge, 
as  he  flepped  into  the  chaife  to  go  for  his 
grand- daughter,  "  what  pleafure  expands  the 
heart  of  an  old  man  when  he  beholds  the 
progeny  of  a  beloved  child  growing  up  in 
every  virtue  that  adorned  the  minds  of  her 
parents.  I  fooliihly  thought,  fome  few  years 
iince,  that  every  fenfe  of  joy  was  buried  in 
the  grave  of  my  dear  partner  and  my  fon  ; 
but  my  Lucy,  by  her  filial  affeclion,  foothecfc 
my  foul  to  peace,  and  this  dear  Charlotte  has 
twined  herfelf  round  my  heart,  and  opened 
fuch  new  fcenes  of  delight  to  my  view,  that 
lalmoft  forget  that  I  have  ever  been  unhappy."' 

When  the  chaife  flopped,  he  alighted  with* 
the  alacrity  of  youth  ;  fo  much  do  the  emo?- 
tions  of  the  foul  influence  the  body, 

It  was  half  pafl  eight  o'clocH  :  the  ladles' 
were  affembled  in  the  fchool  room,  and  Ma- 
dame Du  Pont  was  preparing  to  offer  the 
morning  facrifice  of  prayer  and  praifa,.  whe$\ 


76  CHARLOTTE. 

it  was  difcovered,  that  Mademoifelle  and: 
Charlotte  were  miffing,, 

"  She  is  bufv,  no  doubt,"  faid  the  gover- 
nefs,  "  in  preparing  Charlotte  for  her  little 
excurfion  ;  but  pleafure  fliall  never  make  u» 
forget  our  duty  to  our  Creator.  Go,  one  of 
you,  and  bid  them  both  attend  prayers.*' 

The  lady-  who  went  to  fumrnon  them,  foon 
returned,  and  informed  the  s*overnefs,  that 
the  room  was  locked,  and  that  fhe  had 
knocked  repeatedly,  but  obtained  no  amwer. 

"  Good  heaven  ! '"'  cried  Madame  du  Pont, 
"this  is  very  llrange  ;"  and  turning  pale 
with  terror,  (lie  went  haftily  to  the  door  and 
ordered  it  to  be  forced  open.  The  apart- 
ment inftantly  discovered,  that  no  perfon  had 
been  in  it  the  preceding  night,  the  beds  ap- 
pearing as  though  jiift  made.  The  houfe  was 
inftantly  a  fccne  cf  confuiion  :  the  garden, 
the  pleafure  grounds  were  fearched  to  no 
purpofe  ;  every  apartment  rung  with  the 
names  of  Mifs  Temple  and  Mademoifelle  i 
but  they  were  too  dillant  to  hear  ;  and  every 
face  wore  the  marks  of  difappointment. 

Mr.  Eldridge  was  fitting  in  the  parlouiv 
eagerly  expecting  his  grand  daughter  to  de- 
fcend,  ready  equipped  for  her  journey  :  he 
heard  the  confuiion  that  reigned  in  the  houfe ; 
he  heard  the  name  of  Charlotte  frequently 


C  JF  A.  R.  l.  a  T  T  E,  7T 

repeated.    "  What  can  be  the  matter  T?  Md< 
he,  riling  and    opening  the  door  :   "  I  fear 
fome  accident  has  befallen  my  dear  girl." 

The  governefs  entered.  The  vifible  agita^ 
tion  of  her  countenance  difeovered  that  fome— 
thing  extraordinary  had  happened,. 

"  Where  is  Charlotte  ?"  faid  he,   «  Why- 
does  not  my  child   come  to  welcome  her' 
doating  parent  ?" 

"  Be  compofed,  my  dear  Sir,"  faid  Ma- 
dame Du  Pont,  do  not  frighten  yourfelf  un= 
necelfarily.  She  is  not  in  the  houfe  at  pre- 
fent ;  but  as  Mademoifelie  is  undoubted!/ 
with  her,  fhe  will  fpNsedily  retur»  in  fafety  y 
and  1  hope  they  will  both  be  able  to  account 
for  this  unfeaforiable  abfence  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner as  fliall  remove  our  preterit  uneadnefs.'2 

"  Madam,"  cried  the  old  man,  with  air 
?.ngry  look,  "  has  my  child  been  accuftomed'* 
to  go  out  without  leave,  with  no  other  com- 
pany or  prcte£icr  than  that  French  woman  ? 
Pardon  me,  Madam,  I  mean  no  refle&iojjs 
on  your  country,  but  I  never  did  like  Made- 
moifelie La  Rue  ;  I  think  frie  was  a  very  im- 
proper perfon  to  be  entrufted  with  the  care 
of  fuch  a  girl  as  Charlotte  Temple,  or  to  be. 
iurfered  to  take  her  from  under  your  Jmmj^ 
diate.  protection," 


78'  C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

"  You  wrong  me,  Mr.  Eidridge, ''faid  fhe,, 
"  if  you  fuppoie  I  have  ever  permitted  your 
grand-daughter  to  go  out,  unlefs  with  the- 
other  ladies.  I  would  to  heaven  I  could  form 
any  probable  conjecture  concerning  her  ab- 
fence  this  morning  ;  but  it  is  a  mvflerv  to- 
me  which  her  return  can  alone  unraveh" 

Servants  were  now  difpatched  to  every 
place  where  there  was  the  leaft  hope  of  hear- 
ing any  tidings  of  the  fugitives,  but  in  vain. 
Dreadful  were  the  hours  of  horrid  fufpenfe 
which  Mr..  Eidridge  pa  fled  till  twelve  o'- 
clock, when  that  fufpenfe  was  reduced  to  a 
(hocking  certainty,  and  every  fpark  of  hope, 
which  till  then  they  had  indulged,  was  in  a 
moment  extingiufhed- 

Mr.  Eidridge  was  preparing,  with  a  hea- 
vy heart,  to  return  to  his  anxioufly  expect- 
ing children,  when  Madame  Du  Pont  re- 
ceived the  following  note  without  either 
name  or  date.. 

"  Mifs  Temple  is  well,  and  wiihes  to  re^ 
Fieve  the  anxiety  of  her  parents,  by  letting- 
them  know  the  has  voluntarily  put  herfelf  un- 
der the  protection  of  a  man  whofe  future 
Hudy  fliall  be  to  make  her  happy.  Purfuit 
is  ncedlefs  ;.  the  meafures  taken  to  avoid  dif- 
covery  are  too  effectual  to  be  eluded.  When- 
Hie  thinks  her  friends  are  reconciled  to  this 
precipitate  Hep,   they  may    perhaps  be  isu- 


CHARLOTT  K2.  Up 

formed  of  her  place  of  refidence..    Made  mo  i- 
feiie  is  with  her.'v 

As  Madame  Bu  Pont  read  tliefe  cruel 
lines,  flie  turned  pale  as  allies,  her  limbs-: 
trembled,  and  ilie  was  forced  to  call  for  a. 
glafs  of  water,.  She  loved  Charlotte  truly  :.. 
and  when  die  reflected  on  the  innocence  and 
gentlenefs  of  her  difpoiition,  fhe  concluded: 
that  it  muft  have  been  the  advice  and  machi- 
nations of  La  Rue,  which  led  her  to  this  im- 
prudent action  ;  fhe  recollected  her  ap  itation. 
at  the  receipt  of  her  mother's  letter,  and  faw 
in  it  the  conflict  of  her  mind,. 

"Does  that  letter  relate  to  Charlotte  ?'r 
laid  Mr.  Eldridger  having  waited  four;  time 
iai  expectation  ofMadameDu  Pout's  fpeaking, 

'"■  It  does,-'  faid  flie^  "  Ccarlatte  is  well^. 
but  cannot  return  to- day," 

tl  Not  return,  Madam  ?  where  is  fhe  ? 
who  will  detain  her  from  her  fond  expect- 
ing parents  ?-" 

"You  difiracb  me  with thefe  queftions,. 
Mr.  Eldridge-  Indeed  I  know  not  where 
Mie  is, or  who  has  {Seduced  her  fromher  duty.'3* 

The  whole  truth  now  rirfjhed  at  once  upon 
Mr.  Eldfidgers  mind,.  fo4  She  has  eloped,, 
toP>"  laid  he,.  u  my  chikl  is  betrayed  ;  ^thc 


Stf         C  H  A  R  L  a  T  T  EV 

darlinsvthe  comfort  of  my  ao;ed  heart,  is  loft,: 
Oh  would  to  heaven  I  had  died  but  yefterday." 

A  violent  gufh  of  grief  in  fome  meafurc 
relieved  him,  and,  after  feveral  vain  attempts^ 
he  at  length  aflumed  fuffieient  compofure  to 
read  the.  note .. 

"  And  how  fhall  I  return  to  my  children  ?" ' 
faid  he  ;  "  how  approach  that  manfion,  fo  late 
the  habitation  of  peace  ?  Alas  !  my  dear 
Lucy,  how  will  you  fupport  thefe  heart-rend- 
ing: tidings  ?  or  how  iliall  I  be  enabled  to 
confole  vou,  who  need  fo  much  confolation 
myfeif  :"' 

The  old  "man   returned  to  the  chaife,  but 
the  light  Rep  and  cheerful  countenance  were 
no  more  ;  forrow  filled  his  heart,  and  guided.' 
his  motions  ;  he  feated  himfelf  in  the  chaife, 
his  venerable  head  reclined  upon  his  bofdmj 
his  hands  were  folded,  his  eye  fixed  on  va- 
cancy, and  the  large  drops  of  forrow  rolled  1 
filently  down  his  cheeks,.  There  was  a  mix* 
ture  of  .anguifh  and  re  fi  gnat  ion  depiclcd   in 
Bis  countenance,  as  ii  he  would  fay,  hence- 
forth -who fhall dare  to  boafchis  happinefs,  or 
even  in  idea  contemplate  his  trealure,  left  in 
the  very  moment  his  heart  is  exulting  in  its 
awn  felicity,  the  object  which  conftitutes  thatH 
felicity  fhould  be  torn  frcm.iiim  I 


CHARLOTT  E.  *Ji 


e  H  A  P  T  Z  R    XIV. 


MATERNAL  SORROW. 
Q 

Oeow  and  heavy  paffed  the  time  while  the 
carriage  was  conveying  Mr.  Eldridge  home  y 
and  yet  when  he  came  in  light  of  the  houfe,. 
he  wifhed  a  longer  reprieve.from  the  dread- 
ful talk  of  informing  Mr.  and  Mrs,  Temple 
•f  their  daughter's  elopements 

It  is-eafy  to  judge  the  anxiety  of  thefe  af- 
fectionate parents,  when  they  found  the  re- 
turn of  their  father  delayed  fo  much  beyond, 
the  expected  time.  They  were  now  met  in 
the  dining  parlour,  and  feveral  of  the  young- 
people  who  had  been  invited  were  already 
arrived.  Each  different  part  of  the  company 
was  employed  in  the  fame  manner,  looking 
out  at  the  windows  which  faced  the  road. — 
At  length  the  long  expected  chaife  appeared,. 
Mrs.  Temple  ran  out  to  receive  and  wel- 
come her  darling.... her  young  companions 
nocked  round  the  door,  each  one  eager  to 
give  her  joy  on  the  return  of  her  birth  day.. 
The  door  of  the  chaife  was  opened  :  Char- 
lotte was  not  there.  "  Where  is  my  child  ?"* 
cried  Mrs-  Temple,  m  breathlefs  agitation*. 


15  CHARLOTTE. 

Mr.  Eldrido-e  could  not  anfwer  :  he  took 

O 

hold  of  his  daughter's  hand  and  led  her  into 
the  houfe  ;  and  linking  on  the  firft  chair  he 
•ame  to,  bunt  into  tears,  and  fobbed  aloud. 

"  She  is  dead,"  cried  Mrs.  Temple.  "  Oh 
my  dear  Charlotte  !"  and  clafping  her  hands 
in  an  agony  of  diitrefs,  fell  into  ftrong  hy- 
fterics. 

Mr.  Temple  who  had  Hood  fpeechlefs  with, 
furprize  and  fear,  now  ventured  to  enquire, 
if  indeed  his- Charlotte  was  no  more.  Mr. 
Eldridge  led  him  into  another  apartment: 
and  putting  the  fatal  note  into  his  hand,  cried 
"Bear  it  like  a  Chriftian:"  and  turned  from 
him,  endeavoring. to  fupprefs  his  own  to®, 
vifible  emotions.. 

It  would  be  vain   to  attempt  defcribirig- 
what  Mr.   Temple  felt  whilft  he   haftily  ran 
oyer  the  dreadful  lines  :  when  he  had  finifh- 
ed,  the  paper  dropt  from  his  unnerved  hand.. 
"Gracious  heaven !"'faid he,  "could  Char- 
lotte acl:  thus?"  Neither  tear  nor  figh  efcap- 
ed  him  ;  and  he  fet  the  image   of  mute    for. 
row,  till  roufed  from  his  ftupor  by  the  re- 
peated fhrieks    of  Mrs.  Temple.     He   rofe 
haftily,  and  milling  into  the  apartment  where 
ihe  was,  folded  his  anus  about  her  and  fay- 
ing— «  Let  us  be  patient,  my  dear  Lucy,"' 
nature  relieved  his  almoft  burfting  heart  by/ 
airiendly  gufli  of  tears. . 


C    H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E.  S3 

"Should  any  one,  prefuming  on  his  own 
,-philoiophic  temper,  look  with  an  e|Te  of  con- 
.tempt  on  the  man  who  could  indulge  a  wo- 
man's weakntfs,  let  him  remember  that 
man  was  a  father,  and  he  will  then  pity  the 
anifery  which  wrung  thofe  drops  from  a  no- 
ble, generous  heart. 

Mrs.  Temple  beginning  to  be  a  little  more 
compofed,  but  Hill  imagining  her  child  was 
dead,  her  hufband,  gently  taking  her  hand, 
cried../'  You  are  miftaken,  my  love.  Char- 
lotte is  not  dead." 

*'  Then  fhe  is  very  ill  ;  elfe  why  did  fhe 
not  come  ?  But  I  will  go  to  her  :  the  chaife  is 
ftill  at  the  door  :  let  me  go  inftantly  to  the 
dear  girl.  If  I  was  ill,  fhe  would  fty  to  at- 
tend me,  to  alleviate  my  fufferings,and  chear 
me  with  her  love/" 

"Be  calm,  my  deareft  Lucy,  and  I  will 
tell  you  all,"  laid  Mr.  Temple.  "  You 
mull  not  go,  indeed  you  muft  not  :  it  will 
be  of  no  ufe." 

u  Temple,"  faid  fhe,  affurnlrg  a  look  o£ 
.frrwmefs  and  compofure,  "  tell  me  the  truth 
I  befeecu  you.  I  cannot  bear  this  dreadful 
ftifpenfe.  What  misfortune  has  befallen  my 
child  ?  let  me  know  the  worft,  and  I  wik 
endeavor  to  bear  it  as  I  Gu^ht.  "*• 


m  C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E„ 

"Lucy,"  replied  Mr.  Temple,  "imagine: 
your  daughter  alire,  and  in  no  danger  of 
death  :  what  misfortune  would  you  then 
dread  I* 

"  There  is  one  misfortune  which  is  worfe 
than  death.  But  I  know  my  child  too  well 
to  fufpett — " 

•*■*  Be  not  too  confident,  Lucy." 

"  Oh  heavens  !"  faid  fhe,  "what  horrid 
images  do  you  ftart/.  .isitpoffible  flic  fhould 
forget. " 


<v  She  has  forgot  us  all,  my  love  ;  fhe  has 
'preferred  the  love  of  a  ftranger  to  the  affec- 
tionate protection  of  her  friends." 

"  Not  eleped  ?"  cried  fiie  eagerly. 

Mr.  Temple  w:as  filent,  - 

"  You  cannot  contradict  it,"  faid  fiie.  "  I 
fee  my  fate  in  thofe  tearful  eyes.  Oh  Char- 
lotte !  Charlotte  !  how  ill  have  you  requitted 
our  tendernefs  !  But,  Father  of  mercies," 
continued  fhe,  finking  on  her  knees,  and 
railing  her  "flreaming  eyes  and  clafped  hands 
to  heaven,  "  this  once  vouchfafe  to  hear  a 
fond,  a  diilra&ed  mother's  prayer.  Oh  let 
thy  bounteous  Providence  watch  over  and 
protect  the  dear  thoughtlefs   girl,  fave  her 


as  C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

from  the  miferies  which  1  fear  will  be  her 
portion,  and  oh  !  of  thine  infinite  mercy, 
make  her  not  a  mother,  left  flie  fhould  ore 
day  feel  what  I  now  iuffer." 

The  laft  words  faultered  on  her  tongue, 
and  ilie  fell  fainting  into  the  arms  of  her  huf- 
band,  who  had  involuntarily  dropped  on  his 
knees  befide  her. 

A  mother's  anguifh  when  difappomted  in 
her  tendereit  hopes,  none  but  a  mother  can 
conceive.  Yet,  my  dear  young  readers,  I 
would  have  you  to  read  this  fcene  with  at- 
tention, and  reflect  that  }-on  may  yourfeive-s 
one  day  be  mothers.  Oh,  my  friends,  as  you 
value  your  eternal  happinefs,  wound  not,  by 
thoughtlefs  ingratitude,  the  peace  of  the  mo- 
ther who  bore  you :  remember  the  tender- 
nefs,  the  care,  the  unremitting  anxiety  with, 
which  ine  has  attended  to  all  your  wants  and 
wiihesfrom  earliefl  infancy  to  the  prefentday ; 
behold  the  mild  ray  of  affectionate  applaufe 
that  beams  from  her  eye  on  the  performance 
of  your  duty  :  liften  to  her  reproofs  w  ith  ii- 
lent  attention ;  they  proceed  from  a  heart 
anxious  for  your  future  felicity  :  you  muit 
lovelier;  nature, all-powerfulnaturehasplant- 
e4  the  feeds  of  filial  affection  in  your  bofoms. 

Then  once  more  read  over  the  forrows  of 
poor  Mrs.  Temple,  and  remember,  the  mo- 
ther whom  yjo'u  io  dearly  love  and  veiera:-r 

VOA.     1.  H 


86  CHARLOTTE. 

will  feel  the  fame,  fhoulcl  yon,  forgetful  of 
the  refpect  due  to  your  maker  and  yourfelf, 
forfake  the  paths  of  virtue  for  thofe  of  vice 
and  folly. 


CHARLOTTE.  37 

an  AFTER     XJ-* 


EMBARKATION. 


t  was  with  the  utmoft  difficulty  that  the 
united  efforts  of  Mademoifelle  and  Montra- 
rille  could  fupport  Charlotte's  fpirits  during 
their  fhort  ride  from  Chichefcer  to  Portf- 
mouth,  where  a  boat  waited  to  take  them  im- 
mediately on  board  the  fliip  in  which  they 
v,  ere  to  embark  for  America. 

As  fconas  (he  became  tolerably  compofed 
flie  entreated  pen  and  ink  to  write  to  her  pa- 
rents. This  fhe  did  in  the  moil  affecting, 
artlefe  manner,  entreating  their  pardon  and 
bleilrag,  and  defcribing  the  dreadful  fituation 
of  her  mind,  the  conflict  fhe  fuffered  in  en- 
deavoring to  conquer  this  unfortunate  atr 
tachment,  and  concluded  with  laving,  het 
only  hope  of  future  comfort  confifted  in  the" 
(perhaps  cleluilvc)  idea  Hie  indulged,  of  be- 
ing once  more  folded  in  their  proteelmga;  my. 
and  heaiing  the  void*  of  peace  and  pardon 
from  their  lips. 


8S  C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

The  tears  ftreamed  inceffantly  while  fhe 
was  writings  and  fhe  was  frequently  obliged 
to  lay  down  her  pen  ;  but  when  the  talk  was 
completed,  and  ihe  had  committed  the  letter 
to  the  care  of  Montraville,  to  be  fent  to  the 
poll-office,  fhe  became  more  calm,  and  in- 
dulging the  delightful  hope  of  foon  receiving' 
an  anfwer  that  would  feal  her  pardon,  fhe  in 
fome  lneafure  afllimed  herufual  ckearmlnefs. 

But  MontraviHe  knew  too  well  the  confe- 
rences that  mult  unavoidably  enfue,  fhould 
this  letter  reach  Mr.  Temple  :  he  therefore 
craftily  refoivea  to  walk  on  the  deck,  tear  it 
in  pieces,  and  commit  the  fragments  to  the 
care  of  Neptune,  who  might  or  might  not, 
as  it  fuited  his  convenience,  convey  them  on 
ihore. 

All  Charlotte's  hopes  and  wifhes  were 
now  centered  in  one,  namely,  that  the  fleet 
might  be  detained  at  Spithead  till  fhe  could 
receive  a  letter  from  her  friends  ;  but  in  this 
fhe  was  djfappomted  ;  for  the  fecond  morn- 
ing after  fhe  went  on  board,  the  fignal  was 
made,  the  fleet  weighed  anchor,  and  in  a  few 
hours  (the  wind  being  favorable)  they  bid 
adieu  to  the  white  cliffs  of  Albion. 

In  the  mean  time  every  enquiry  that  could 
be  thought  of  was  made  bv  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Temple  :  for  many  days  did  they  indulge 
the  fond  hope  that  me  was  merely  gone  off  to 


CHARLOTTE.  33 

fee  married,  and  that  when  the  indifibluble 
knot  was  once  tied,  ihe  would  return  with 
the  partner  Hie  had  chofen,  and  entreat  their 
blciUng  and  forgi\  enefs. 

"And  fhall  we  not  forgive  her?"  laid 
Mr.  Temple. 

"  Forgive  her  ■!"'  exclaimed  the  mother.' 
*•'  Oh  yes,  whatever  be  her  errors,  is  ihe  not 
our  child  ?  and  though  bowed  even  to  to  the 
«arth  with  fhame  and  remorfe,  is  it  not  our 
duty  to  raife  the  poor  penitent,  and  whifper 
peace  and  comfort  to  her  defponding  'foul  ? 
would  ilie  but  return,  with  rapture  would  I 
fold  her  to  1113*  heart,  and  bury  every  remem- 
brance of  her  faults  in  the  dear  embrace." 

But  ftill  day  after  day  patted  on,  and  Char- 
lotte did  not  appear,  nor  were  any  tidings  to 
be  heard  of  her  :  yet  each  riling  morning  was 

welcomed  by  fonie  new  hope the  evening 

brought  with  it  diihppomtment.  At  length 
hope  was  no  more ;  deipair  ufnrped  her 
place  ;  and  the  manfion  which  was  once  the 
manlion  of  peace,  became  the  habitation  of 
pale  dejecled  melancholy* 

The  eke  :.rful  fmile  that  was  wont  to  adorn 
the  face  ci  Mrs.  Temple,  was  fled,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  fupport  of  unaffecled  pie- 
ty, and  a  confeioufhefs  of  having  ever  fct 

e2 


90  CHARLOTT  E. 

before  her  child  the  faireft  example,  flie  mull 
have  funk  under  this  heavy  affliction. 

**  fence,5"  faid  fhe,  "the  fevcreft  fcrutlny 
cannot  charge  me  with  any  breach  of  duty, 
to  have  deferved  this  fevere  chaftifement,  I 
will  bow  before  the  power  who  inflicts  it  with 
humble  renr-nation  to  his  will  ;  nor  fhall 
the  duty  of  a  wife  be  totally  abforbed  in  the- 
feelings  of  the  mother  ;  I  will  endeavor  to 
ieem  more  chearful,  and  by  appearing  in 
fome  meafure  to  have  conquered  my  own 
ibrrow,  alleviate  the  fufFerihgs  of  myhufband, 
and  roufe  him  from  that  torpor  into  which 
this  misfortune  has  plunged  him.  My  father 
too  demands  my  care  and  attention  :  I  muft 
not,  by  afelfifti  indulgence  of  my  own  grief, 
forget  the  ihtereft  thofe  two  dear  objeels  take 
in  my  happmefs  or  mifery  :  I  will  wear  a 
fmile  on  my  face,  though  the  thorn  rankles 
in  my  heart :  and  if  by  fo  doing  I  contribute 
in  the  fmailefl  degree  to  relieve  their  peace 
of  mind,  1  fhali  be  amply  rewarded  for  the 
pain  the  concealment  of  my  own  feelings 
may  oceaiion." 

Thus  argued  this  excellent  woman  :  and 
in  the  execution  of  fo  laudable  a  refolntion 
we  fhall  leave  her,  to  follow  the  fortunes  of 
the  naplefe  victim  of  imprudence  and  evil 
counfellors; 


CHARLOTTE.  01 


C-H  A  P  T  E  R    XVI. 


NECESSARY  DIGRESSION. 

1  n  board  of  the  fhip  in  wliich  Charlotte 
and  Mademoifelle  were  embarked,  was  an 
officer  of  large  unincumbered  fortune  and- 
elevated  rank,  and  whom  I  fhallcall  Crayton. 

He  was  one  of  thofe  men,  who,  having 
travelled  in  their  youth,  pretend  to  have  con- 
tracted a  peculiar  fondnefs  for  every  thing 
foreign,  and  to  hold  in  contempt  the  produc- 
tions of  their  own  country  ;  and  this  affect- 
ed partiality  extended  even  to  the  women. 

With  him  therefore  the  bkifhing  modefly 
and  unaffected  fimplicity  of  Charlotte  palled 
unnoticed  ;  but  the  forward  pertnefs  of  La 
Rue,  the  freedom  of  her  converfation,  the 
elegance  of  her  perfon,  mixed  with  a  certain 
engaging^"?  ne  sais  quoi,  perfectly  enchant- 
ed him. 

The  reader,  no  doubt,  has  already  deve- 
loped the  character  of  La  Rue  ;  dedgning, 


92  C  II  ARLO  T  T  E* 

artful  and  fern  fh,  fhe  had  accepDjd  the  devoirs 
of  Belcour,  becaufe  £he  was  heartily  weary 
of  the  retired  life  fhe  led  at  the  fchool,  w  iflied 
to  be  releafed  from  what  fhe  deemed  a  Have - 
ry,  and  to  return  to  that  vortex  of  folly  and 
diffipation  which  had  once  plunged  her  into 
the  deepeft  mifery  ;  but  her  plan,  fhe  flatter- 
ed herfelf,  was  now  better  formed  :  fhe  re- 
folved  to  put  herfelf  under  the  protection  of 
no  man,  till  fhe  had  firft  fecured  a  fettlement ; 
but  the  clandeftine  manner  in  which  fhe  left 
Madame  Du  Font's,  prevented  her  putting 
this  plan  in  execution,  though  Belcour  fo- 
lemniy  protefted  he  would  make  her  a  hand* 
fome  Lctlement  the  moment  they  arrived  at 
Portfmoath.  This  he  afterwards  contrived 
to  evade  by  a  pretended  hurry  of  bufmefs  ; 
La  Rue  readily  conceiving  he  never  meant 
to  fulfil  his  promife,  determined  to  change 
her  battery,  and  attack  the  heart  of  Colonel 
Cravton.  She  foon  difcovered  the  partiality 
he  entertained  for  her  nation  ;  and  having 
impofed  on  him  a  feigned  tale  of  diftrefs,  re- 
prefented  Belcour  as  a  villain  who  had  fe- 
duced  her  from  her  friends  under  promife  of 
marriage,  and  afterwards  betrayed  her,  pre- 
tending great  remorfe  for  the  errors  fhe  had 
nitted,  and  declaring  that  whatever  her 

don  might  have  been,   it  was  now   en- 
.  v  ly  extinguished,  and  fhe  wifhed  for  no- 

••  more  than  an  opportunity  to  leave  a 
c  •■:  •  ■•"■  dxlch  laer  fauj  abhored^  but 
-i..  ii  .  iius  10  a">.^.*  tj  ,    Ciiwj   uou  - •-•' 


CHARLOTTE.  93 

denounced  her,  and  guilt  and  mifery  would 
undoubtedly  be  her  future  portion  through 
life. 

Crayton  was  porTe  fifed  of  many  amiable 
qualities  ;  though  the  peculiar  trait  in  his 
character,  which  we  have  already  mentioned, 
in  a  great  meafure  threw  a  (hade  over  them. 
He  was  beloved  for  his  humanity  and  bene- 
volence by  all  who  knew  him  ;  but  he  was 
eafy  and  unfufpicious  himfelf,  and  became  a 
dupe  to  the  artifice  of  others. 

He  was,  when  very  young,  united  to  an 
amiable  Parifian  lady,  and  perhaps  it  was  his 
affection  for  her  that  laid  the  foundation  for 
the  partiality  he  ever  retained  for  the  whole 
nation.  He  had  by  her  one  daughter,  who 
entered  into  the  world  but  a  few  hours  before 
her  mother  left  it.  This  lady  was  univer- 
fally  beloved  and  admired,  being  endowed 
with  all  the  virtues  of  her  mother,  without 
the  weaknefs  of  the  father  :  flie  was  married 
to  Major  Beauchamp,  and  was  at  this  time 
in  the  fame  fleet  with  her  father,  attending 
her  hufband  to  New-York. 

Crayton  was  melted  by  the  affected  con- 
trition and  diilrcfs  of  La  Rue  :  he  would  con- 
verfe  with  her  for  hours,  read  to  her,  play 
cards  with  her,  liften  to  all  her  complaints, 
and  promife  to  protect  her  to  the  utmoil  of 
his  power.    La  Rue  eafily  faw  his  character ; 


94  CHARLOTTE. 

her  fole  aim  was  to  awaken  a  paffion  in  his 
bofom  that  might  turn  out  to  her  advantage  ; 
and  in  this  aim  ihe  was  but  too  fuccefsful  ;i 
for  before  the  voyage  was  finifhed,  the  infa- 
tuated Colonel  gave  her  from  under  his  hand 
a  promife  of  marriage  on  their  arrival  at 
New- York,  under  forfeiture  of  five  thoufand 
pounds. 

And  how  did  our  poor  Charlotte  pafs  her 
time  during  a  tedious  and  tempeftuous  paf- 
fage  ?  Naturally  delicate,  the  fatigue  and 
ficknefs  which  ihe  endured,  rendered  her  lb 
weak  as  to  be  almoft  entirely  confined  to  her 
bed  :  yet  the  kindnefs  and  attention  of  jNion- 
travilie  in  fome  rneafure  contributed  to  alle- 
viate her  fufterings,  and  the  hope  of  hearing 
from  her  friends  loon  after  "her  arrival,  kept 
up  her  fpirits,  arjd  cheered  many  a  gloomy 
hour. 

But  during  the  voyage  a  great  revolution- 
took  place,  not  only  in  the  fortune  of  La  Rue 
but  in  the  bofom  of  Bclcour  :  whilfl  in  pur- 
suit cf  his  amour  with  Mademoifclle,  he  had 
attended  little  to  the  intereftmg,  unobtrufive 
charms  of  Charlotte  ;  but  when,  cloved  by 
policfiion,  and  difgufted  with  the  art  ana  dii- 
limulation  of  the  one,  he  beheld  the  iimplicity 
and  genllenef^  of  the  other,  the  contrail  be- 
came too  ftriking,  not  to  fill  him  at  once  v.  ith 
furprize  and  admiration.  He  frequently  coa- 
veif^d  with  Charlotte  ;  he  found  her  (eniible,' 


CHARLOTTE.  f)5 

well  informed,  but  diffident  and  unafliiming. 
The  languor  which  the  fatigue  of  her  body 
and  perturbation  of  her  mind  fpread  over 
her  delicate  features,  ferved  only  in  his  opi- 
nion, to  render  her  more  lorely  :  he  knew 
that  Montraville  did  not  defign  to  marry  her, 
and  he  formed  a  refolution  to  endeavor  to 
gain  her  himfelf,  whenever  Montraville 
fhould  leave  her. 

Let  not  the  reader  imagine  Belcour's  de= 
figns  were  honorable.  Alas  !  when  once  a 
woman  has  forgot  the  refpecl  due  to  herfelf, 
by  yielding  to  the  folicitations  of  illicit  love, 
fhe  lofes  all  her  confequence,  even  in  the 
eyes  of  the  man  whofe  art  has  betrayed  her, 
and  for  whofe  fake  fhe  has  facrificed  every 
valuable  confideration. 

3The  heedlefs  Fair,  *»ho  ftoops  to  guilty  joys, 
A  mas  may  pity. ...bat  he  aauft  dsfpife. 

Nay,  every  libertine  will  think  he  has  a  right 
to  infult  her  with  his  licentious  paffion  ;  and 
fhould  the  unhappy  creature  fhrink  from  the 
infolent  overture,  he  will  fneeringljr  taynt 
Her  with  pretence-  of  modeily. 


CHARLOTTE.  97 


CHAP  T  $  R      XVII. 


A  WEDDING. 

vJn  the  day  before  their  arrival  at  New- 
York,  after  dinner,  Crayton  arofe  from  his 
feat,  and,  placing  himfelf  by  MademoHelle, 
thus  addreffed  the  company  :.... 

"  As  we  are  now  nearly  arrived  at  our 
deftined  port,  I  think  it  but  my  duty  to  in- 
form you,  my  friends,  that  this  lady,"  (tak- 
ing her  hand,)  "  has  placed  herfelf  under  my 
protection.  I  have  feen  and  feverely  felt  the 
anguith  of  her  heart,  and  through  every  fhade 
which  cruelty  or  malice  may  throw  over  her, 
can  difcover  the  moll  amiable  qualities.  I 
thought  it  but  neceffary  to  mention  my  ef- 
teem  for  her  before  our  difembarkation,  as  it 
is  my  fixed  refolution,  the  morning  after  we 
land,  to  give  her  an  undoubted  title  to  my 
favor  and  protection  by  honorably  uniting 
my  fate  to  hers.  I  would  wivh  every  gentle- 
man here,  therefore,  to  remember  that,  her 
honor  henceforth  is  mine  ;  and,"  cDnt$$&'ed 
he,  looking  at  Belcour,  "-  fhould  aay  man, 
v©i.  I.  i 


98  CHARLOTTE. 

prefume  to  fpeak  in  the  leaft  difrefpeclfully 
of  her,  I  fnall  hot  hefitate  to  pronounce  him 
a  fcoundrel." 

Belcour  caft  at  him  a  fmile  of  contempt, 
and  bowing  profoundly  low,  wifhed  Made- 
moifelle  much  joy  in  the  propofcd  union ; 
and  aiTuring  the  Colonel  that  he  need  not  be 
in  the  leaft  apprehenfive  of  any  one  throwing 
the  leaft  odium  on  the  character  of  his  lady, 
ihook  him  by  the  hand  with  ridiculous  gra- 
vity, and  left  the  cabbin. 

The  truth  was,  he  was  glad  to  be  rid  of 
La  Rue,  and  fo  he  was  but  freed  from  her, 
he  cared  not  who  fell  a  victim  to  her  infa- 
mous arts, 

The  inexperienced  Charlotte  was  rffton-, 
jfhed  at  what  fhe  heard.  She  thought  La  Rue 
had,  like  herfelf,  only  been  urged  by  the 
force  of  her  attachment  to  Belcour,  to  quit 
her  friends,  and  follow  him  to  the  feat  of  war : 
how  wonderful  then,  that  fhe  fhould  refolve 
to  many  another  man  !  It  was  certainly  ex- 
tremely wrong.  It  was  indelicate.  She 
mentioned  her  thoughts  to  Montraviile.  He 
laughed  at  her  fimplicity,  called  her  a  little 
kleot,  and  patting  her  on  the  cheek,  faid  flic 
knew  nothing  of  the  world.  "If  the  world 
Sanctifies  fuch  things,  'tis  a  very  bad  world, 
t  think,'1  faid  Charlotte.  "  Why  I  always, 
underftood  that  they  were  to  have  been  mar- 


CHARLOTTE.  99 

ried  when  they  arrived  at  New- York.  I  am 
fure  Mademoifelle  told  me  Belcour  promifed 
to  marry  her." 

"  Well,  and  iuppofe  he  did  ?" 

"  Why,  he  fhould  be  obliged  to  keep  his 
word,  I  think." 

"  Well,  but  I  fuppofe  he  has  changed  his 
mind,"  faid  Montraville,  "  and  then,  you 
know  the  cafe  is  altered," 

Charlotte  looked  at  him  attentively  for  a 
moment.  A  full  fenfe  of  her  own  iituation 
rufhed  upon  her  mind.  She  burft  into  tears, 
and  remained  filent.  Montraville  too  well 
underflood  the  caufe  of  her  tears.  He  kill  '•  i 
her  cheek,  and  bidding  her  not  make  herfelf 
uneafy,  unable  to  bear  the  fileilt  but  kccu 
remonitrance,  haltily  left  her. 

The  next  morning  by  fun-rife  they  found 
thcmfelves  at  anchor  before  the  city  of  New- 
York.  A  boat  was  ordered  to  convey  the 
ladies  on  more.  Crayton  accompanied  them ; 
and  they  were  fhownto  a  houfe  of  public  en- 
tertainment. Scarcely  were  they  feated  when 
the  door  opened,  and  the  Colonel  found  him- 
fell'  in  the  arms  of  his  daughter,  who  had 
landed  a  few  minutes  before  him.  The  iirfi. 
-tranfport  of  meeting  fubfided,  Crayton  intro- 
duced his  daughter  to  Mademoifelle  La  Rue.;, 


100  CHARLOTT  Sfc 

as  an  old  friend  of  her  mother's,  (for  the  art* 
fill  French  woman  had  really  made  it  appear 
to  the  credulous  Colonel  that  Ihe  was  in  the 
fame  convent  with  his  firlt  wife,  and  though 
much  younger,  had  received  many  tokens  pf 
her  eileeni  and  regard.) 

*'  If,  Mademoifelle," faid  Mrs. Beauchamp, 
"you  were  the  friend  of  my  mother,  you 
mult  be  worthy  the  eiteem  of  all  good  hearts." 

il  Mademoifelle  will  foon  honor  our  fami- 
ly.," faid  Crayton,  "  by  fupplying  the  place 
that  valuable  woman  filled  ;  and  as  you  are 
raaiTied,  my  dear,  I  think  you  will  not 
blame " 

*  "  Hufh,  my  dear  Sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Beau- 
champ  :  tl  I  know  my  duty  too  well  to  fcru-^ 
tinizc  )-our  conduct.  Be  allured,  my  dear 
lather,  your  happinefs  is  mine*  I  fnall  re- 
joice  in  it,  and  fincerely  love  the  perfon  who 
contributes  to  it.  But  tell  me,"  continued 
ihe,  turning  to  Charlotte,  "  who  is  this  love- 
ly girl  f     Is  ihe  your  lifter,  Mademoifelle  ?" 

A  blufh,   deep  as  the  glow  of  the  carna- 
tion, fumifed  the  cheeks  of  Charlotte. 

u  It  is  a  young  lady,"  replied  the  Colonel, 
"  who  came  in  the  fame  velfel  with  us  from 
England."  He  then  drew  his  daughter  afide, 
ancTtoid  her  in  a  whifper,  Charlotte  was  the 
miflrefs  of  Montraville, 


CHARLOTTE.         101 

"What  a  pity  !"  faid  Mrs.  Beau  champ 
foftly,  (calling  a  molt  companionate  glance 
at  her.)  "But  furely  her  mind  is  not  de- 
praved. The  goodnefs  of  her  heart  is  de- 
picted in  her  ingenuous  countenance.' ' 

Charlotte  caught  the  word  pity.  "  And 
am  I  already  fallen  fo  low  ?"  faid  fhe.  A 
figh  efcaped  her,  and  a  tear  was  ready  to 
flart,  but  Montraville  appeared,  and  Hie 
checked  the  riling  emotion.  Mademoifelle 
went  with  the  Colonel  and  his  daughter  to 
another  apartment.  Charlotte  remained  with 
Montraville  and  Belcour.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  Colonel  performed  his  promife  and 
La  Rue  became  in  due  form  Mrs.  Crayton, 
exulted  in  her  own  good  fortune,  and  dared 
to  look  with  an  eye  of  contempt  on  the  un- 
fortunate but  far  lefs  guilty  Charlotte, 


iuV£  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME, 


efjatfotte  Xtmplz* 

A 

TALE  OF  TRUTH, 

By  Mrs,   ROW  SON, 

LAt'E  OF  'THE  NEW  ?HEA?'5E,  PHILADELPHIA  9 

AUTHOR  OF  VICTORIA,  THE  INQUISITOR , 
F1LLE  DE  CHAMBRE,  kfc. 

-^m»:®:^»~ 

two   volumes  in  one, 


She  was  her  parents'  only  joy  : 

They  had  but  ens— one  darling  child. 

ROMEO  AND  JULIE'. 

Her  form  was  faultless  ;  and  her  mind, 

Untainted  yet  by  art, 
Was  neble,  just,  humane  and  kind, 

And  virtue  warmed  her  heart, 
But  ah  I  ths  cruel  spoiler  came* « 


VOL.    II. 

FIFTH  AMERICAN  EDITION, 


HARRJSBUROJI,    PENN3TL. 

fMNTED  TOR  MATREV/  CARET  OF  PHILADELPHIA,; 

BY    JOHN  wrE?lU 

AS  Q2* 


Cijarlattc  %tmplt. 


•  II  A  P  T  E  R     XVIH. 


REFLECTIONS. 

?«  AND  am  I  indeed  fallen  fo  low,"  faid 
Charlotte,  "  as  to  be  only  pitied  ?     Will  the 
voice  of  approbation  no  more  meet  my  ear  ? 
and  fliall  I  never  again  poffefs  a  friend,  whofe 
face  will  wear  afmlle  of  joy,  whenever  I  ap- 
proach ?  Alas  !  how  thoughtlefs,  how  dread- 
fully imprudent   have  1  been  !     I  know  not 
which  is  moil  painful  to  endure,  the  fneer  of 
contempt,     or  the     glance    of    companion, 
which  is  depicted  in  the  various  countenan- 
ces of  my  own  fex  :   they   are  both  equally 
humiliating.  —Ah!  my  dear  parents,  eou.Hl. 
you  now  fee  the  child  of  your  affeclions,  the 
daughter  whom  you  fo  dearly  loved,  a  poor 
folitary  being,  without  fociety,  here  wearing 
out  her  heavy  hours  in  deep  regret  and  an- 
guifh  of  heart,  no  kind  friend  of  her  own  fex 
to  whom  fhe  can  unbofom  her  griefs,  no  be- 
loved mother,  no  woman  of  character  to  ap- 
pear   in   her   company ;   and,   low   as  your 
Charlotte  is  fallen,  fhe  cannot  afibciate  with 
infamy," 


106         CHARLOTTE. 

Thcfe  were  the  painful  reflections  which 
occupied  the  mind  of  Charlotte.  Montraville 
had  placed  her  in  a  fmall  houfe,  a  few  miles 
from  New-York  :  he  gave  her  one  female  at- 
tendant, and  funplied  her  with  what  money 
fhe  wanted  ;  but  buiinefs  and  pleafure  fo  en- 
tirely occupied  his  time,  that  he  had  little  to 
devote  to  the  woman  whom  he  had  brought 
from  all  her  connections  and  robbed  of  in- 
nocence. Sometimes,  indeed,  he  would 
fteal  out  at  the  clofe  of  evening,  and  pafs  a 
fevvT  hours  with  her  ;  and  then  fo  much  was 
ihe  attached  to  him,  that  all  her  forrows  were 
Forgotten  while  bleft  with  his  fociety  :  fhe 
would  enjoy  a  walk  by  moonlight,  or  fit  by 
him  in  a  little  arbor  at  the  bottom  of  the  gar- 
den, and  play  on  the  harp,  accompanying  it 
with  her  plaintive,  harmonious  voice.  But 
often,  very  often,  did  he  promife  to  renew  his 
vifits,  and,  forgetful  of  his  promife,  leave  her 
to  mourn  her  difappointment.  What  painful 
hours  of  expectation  would  fhe  pafs  !  ihe 
would  fit  at  a  window  which  looked  toward 
afield  he  ufed  to  crofs,  counting  the  minutes, 
and  {training  her  eyes  to  catch  the  firft 
glimpfe  of  his  perfon,  till,  blinded  with  tears 
of  difappointment,  fhe  would  lean  her  head 
on  her  hands,  and  give  free  vent  to  her  for- 
rows :  then  catching  at  fome  new  hope,  ilie 
would  again  renew  her  watchful  pofition,  till 
the  fhades  of  evening  enveloped  every  object 
in  a  dufky  cloud  :  fhe  would  then  renew  her 
complaints,  and  with  a  heart  burfting  with 


CHARLOTTE.         10T 

difappointed  love  and  wounded  fenfibility, 
retire  to  a  bed  which  remorfe  had  ftrewecl 
with  thorns,  and  court  in  vam  that  comforter 
of  weary  nature  (who  feldom  vifits  the  un- 
happy) to  come  and  lleep  her/fenfes  in  ob- 
livion. 

Who  can  form  an  adequate  idea  of  the  for- 
row  that  preyed  upon  the  mind  of  Charlotte  ? 
The  wife,  whofe  breaft  glows  with  affection 
for  her  hufband,  and  who  in  return  meets 
only  indifference,  can  but  faintly  concerve 
her  anguifh.  Dreadfully  painful  is  the  fitu- 
ation  of  fuch  a  woman  ;  but  fhe  has  many 
comforts,  of  which  our  poor  Charlotte  was 
deprived.  The  duteous,  faithful  wife,  though 
treated  with  indifference,  has  one  folid  plea- 
fure  within  her  own  bofom  :  fhe  can  reflect 
that  Hie  has  not  deferved  neglect- --that  fhe 
has  ever  fulfilled  the  duties  of  her  ftation  with 
the  flricleft  exaclnefs  ;  fhe  may  hope,  by 
conftant  affiduity  and  unremitted  attention, 
to  recall  her  wanderer,  and  be  doubly  happy" 
in  his  returning  affecllon  ;  fhe  knows  he  can- 
not leave  her  to  unite  himfelf  to  another  :  he 
cannot  call  her  out  to  poverty  and  contempt. 
She  looks  around  her,  and  fees  the  frnile  of 
friendly  welcome,  or  the  tear  of  affectionate 
confolation,  on  the  face  of  every  perfon  whom 
fhe  favors  with  her  eileem;  and  from  all  thefe 
circumftances,  (lie  gathers  comfort ;  but  the 
poor  girl,  by  thoughtlefs  paffion  led  aflray, 
yv'ho,  in  parting  with  her  honor,  has  forfeited 


108        CHARLOTTE. 

the  efteem  of  the  very  man  to  whom  fhe  hae 
facrificed  every  thing  dear  and   valuable  in 
life,  feels  his  indifference  to  be  the  fruit  of 
her  own  follv,  and  laments  her  want  of  pow- 
er to  recall  His  loft   affection  :   fhe   knows, 
there  is  no  tie  but  honor,  and  that,  in  a  man 
who  has  been  guilty  of  feduclion,  is  but  very 
feeble  ;   he  may  leave  her   in  a  moment  to 
fhame  and  want ;  he  may  marry  and  forfake 
her  forever;  and  fhouid  he  do  lb,  fhe  has  no 
rcdrefs,  no  friendly  foothing  companion   to 
pour  into  her  wounded  mind   the   balm    of 
confolation,  no  benevolent  hand  to  lead  her 
back  to  the  path  of  rectitude  ;   ilie    has  dif- 
graced  her  friends,  forfeited  the  good  opinion 
of  the  world,  and  undone  herfelf.     She  feels 
herfelf  a  poor  folitary  being  in  the  midft  of 
furrounding  multitudes  ;    fhame  bows  her  to 
the  earth,  remorfe  tears  her  diflrac\ed  mind, 
and   guilt,    poverty,    and  difeafe   clofe   the 
dreadful  fcene  ;   fhe  finks  unnoticed  to  obli- 
vion.   The  finger  of  contempt  may  point  out, 
to  forne  palling  daughter  of  youthful  mirth, 
the  humble  bed  where  lies  this  frail  filter  of 
mortality  :   and  will  fhe,    in  the  unbounded 
gaiety  of  her  heart,  exult  in  her  own  unblem- 
ifned  fame,  and  triumph  over  the  filent  afhes 
of  the  dead  ?    Oh  no  !  fhe  has  a  heart  of  fen- 
iibility,  fhe  will  flop,  and  thus   addrefs  the 
unhappy  viclim  of  folly  :... 

"Thou  hadft  thy  faults;  but  finely  thy 
fnffcrings  have   expiated  them  :   thy  errors 


CHARLOTTE.         109 

brought  thee  to  an  early  grave  ;  but  thou 
wert  a  fellow  creature.... thou  halt  been  un- 
happy. . . .  then  be  thofe  errors  forgotten . " 

Then,  as  Hie  Hoops  to  pluck  the  noxious 
weed  from  off  the  fod,  a  tear  will  fall,  and 
-confecrate  the  fpot  to  Charity. 

Forever  honored  be  the  Hicred  drop  of 
humanity  :  the  angel  of  mercy  fhaH  record 
its  fource,  and  the  foul  from  whence  it  fprang 
ihall  be  immortal. 

My  dear  Madam,  contract  not  your  brow 
into  a  frown  of  difapprobation.  I  mean  not 
to  extenuate  the  faults  of  thofe  unhappy  wo- 
men who  fall  victims  to  guilt  and  folly  ;  but 
furely,  when  we  reflect  how  many  errors  we 
are  ourfelves  fubjecl;  to,  how  many  fecret 
faults  lie  hid  in  the  recefTcs  of  our  hearts, 
which  we  fhould  blufti  to  have  brought  into 
open  day  (and  yet  thofe  faults  require  the  le- 
nity and  pity  of  a  benevolent  judge,  or  awful 
would  be  our  profpect  of  futurity)  I  fay,  mv 
dear  Madam,  when  we  confider  this,  we 
furely  may  pity  the  faults  of  others. 

Believe  me,  many  an  unfortunate  female, 
who  has  once  ftrayed  into  the  thorny  paths 
of  vice,  would  gladly  return  to  virtue,  was 
any  generous  friend  to  endeavor  to  raife  and 
re-amrre  her  ;  but  alas  !  it  cannot  be,  you 
fay;  the  world  would  cleride  ahd  fcoi*.  Thea 

VOL..   2.  K 


110        CHARLOTTE. 

let  me  tell  you,  Madam,  'tis  a  very  unfeeling 
world,  and  does  not  deferve  half  the  bleffings 
which  a  bountiful  Providence  fhowers  up- 
on it. 

Oh,  thou  benevolent  giver  of  all  good ! 
how  fhall  we,  erring  mortals,  dare  to  look 
up  to  thy  mercy  in  the  great  day  of  retribu- 
tion, if  v/e  now  uncharitably  refufe  to  over- 
look the  errors,  or  alleviate  the  miferies,  of 
our  fellow-creatures. 


CHARLOTTE.         in 


CHAPTER     XIX. 


A  MISTAKE  DISCOVERED. 

ulia  Franklin  was  the  only  child  of  a 
man  of  large  property,  who  left  her  indepen- 
dent miftrefs  of  an  unincumbered  income  of 
ieven  hundred"  a  year,  at  the  age  of  eighteen ; 
fhe  was  a  girl  of  a  lively  difpoiition,  and  hu- 
mane, fufeeptible  heart :  fhe  re  fide  d  in  New- 
York  with  an  uncle,  who  loved  her  too  well, 
and  had  too  high  an  opinion  of  her  prudence, 
to  fcrutinize  her  actions  fo  much  as  would 
kave  been  neceffary  with  many  young  ladies, 
who  were  not  bleft  with  her  discretion  :  fhe 
was,  at  the  time  Montraville  arrived  at  New- 
York,  the  life  of  fociety,  and  the  univerfal 
toad.  Montraville  was  introduced  to  her  by 
the  following  accident. — 

One  night  when  he  was  upon  guard,  a 
dreadful  fire  broke  out  near  Mr.  Franldin's 
houfe,  which,  in  a  few  hours,  reduced  that 
and  feveral  others  to  allies ;  fortunately  no 
lives  were  loft,  and,  by  the  aftiduity  of  the 
foldiers,  much  valuable  property  was  fave.4 


m        C'H  A  R  LOT  TE. 

from  the  flames.  In  the  midft-.pf.the  eon- 
fufion,  an  old  gentleman  came  up  to  Mon- 
traviile,  and,  putting  a  fmall    box   into    his 

hands,  cried, "  Keep  it,  my  good  Sir,  till 

I  come  to  yon  again ;"  and  then  rufhing  again 
into  the  thickeft  of  the  croud,  Montravillc 
faw  him  no  more.  He  ..waited  till  the  fire 
was  quite  extinguished,  and  the  mob  dif- 
perfed  ;  but  in  vain  :  the  old  gentleman  did 
not  appear  to  claim  his -property  ;  and  Mon- 
traville,  fearing  to  make  an  enquiry,  left  he 
fhould  meet  with  impoftors  who  might  lay 
claim,  without  any  legal  right,  to  the  box, 
carried  it  to  his  lodgings,  and  locked  it  up  : 
he  n'linrally  imagined,  that  the  perfon  who 
committed  it  to  his  care,  knew  him,  and 
■would  in  a  day  or  two,  reclaim  it ;  -but  feve- 
ral  weeks  palled  on,  and  no  enquiry  being 
made,  he  began  to  be  uneafy,  and  refolved  to 
examine  the  contents  of  the  box,  and  if 'they 
were,  as  hefuppofed,  valuable,  to  fpare  no 
pains  to  difcover  the  owner,  and  reft  ore  them 
to  him.  Upon  opening  it,  he  found  it  con- 
tained jewels  to  a  large  amount,  about  -two 
hundred  pounds  in  money,  and  a  miniature 
piclure  let  for  a  bracelet.  On  examiningthe 
picture,  he  thought  he  had  fomewhere  feen 
features  very  like  at,  but  could  not  recollect 
where.  A  few  days  after,  being  at  a  public 
affembly;  he  law  'Mifs  Franklin,  and  the 
likenefs  was  too  evident  to  be  miilaken  :  he 
enquired  among  his  brother  officers  if  any 
of  them  knew 'her,  and  found  one  who  was*- 


CHARLOTT  E.         113 

upon  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  family  : 
*' then  introduce  me  to  her  immediately," 
laid  he,  ^  for  1  am  certain  I  can  inform  her 
of  fomething  which  will  give  her  peculiar 
pleafure." 

He  was  immediately  introduced,  found  flie 
was  the  owner  of  the  jewels,  and  was  invited 
to  breakfaft  the  next  morning,  in  order  to 
their  reftoration.   This  whole  eveninar  Mon- 

O 

traville  was  honored  with  Julia's  hand  ;  the 
lively  fallies  of  her  wit,  the  elegance  of  her 
manner,  powerfully  charmed  him  ;  he  forgot 
Charlotte,  and  indulged  himfelf  in  faying eve- 
ry thing  that  was  polite  and  tender  to*|wia.. 
But  on  retiring,  recollection  returned,... 
*«  What  am  I  about?"  faid  he,  "  though  I 
cannot  marry  Charlotte,  I  cannot  be  villain 
-enough  to  forfake  her,  nor  mull  I  dare  to 
trifle  with  the  heart  of  Julia  Franklin.  I  will 
return  this  box,"  faid  he,  "  which  has  been 
the  fource  of  fo  much  uneafinefs  already,  and 
in  the  evening  pay  a  vifit  to  my  poor  melan- 
choly Charlotte,  and  endeavor  to  forget  &is. 
fafcinating  Julia." 

He  arofe,  drefFed  himfelf,  and  taking  the 
piaure  out,  "  I  will  referve  this  from  the 
rell,"  faid  he,  *l  and  by  presenting  it  to  her 
when  flie  thinks  it  is  loft,  enhance  the  value 
of  the  obligation."  He  repaired  to  Mr.. 
Franklin'^  and  found  Julia  in 'the  breakfaii 
p;v:our  alone. 

k2 


114        C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  £. 

"How  happy  ami,  Madam,"  faid  he, 
te  that  being  the  fortunate  inftrument  of  far- 
ing thefe  jewels,  has  been  the  means  of  pro- 
curing me  the  acquaintance  of  io  amiable  a> 
lady.  There  are  the  jewels  and  money  all 
fafe." 

44  But  where  is  the  picture,  Sir?"  faid 
Julia. 

"  Here,  Madam.  I  would  not  willingly 
part  with  it." 

."It  is  the  portrait  of  my  mother,"  faid 
fhe,  taking  it  from  him  :  "  'tis  all  tjiat  re- 
mains." She  preffed  it  to  her  lips,  and  a 
tear  trembled  in  her  eyes.  M-ontraville 
glanced  his  eyes  on  her  grey  night  gown  and 
black  ribbon,  and  his  own  feelings  prevent- 
ed a  reply. 

Julia  Franklin  was  the  very  reverfe  of 
Charlotte  Temple :  Ihe  was  tall,  elegantly 
Shaped,  and  poffeifed  much  of  the  air  and 
manner  of  a  woman  of  fafhion  ;  her  com- 
plexion was  a  clear  brown,  enlivened  with 
the  glow  of  heal  til  ;  her  eyes,  full,  black, 
and  fparkling,  darted  their  intelligent  glances 
through  long  filken  lafhes  ;  her  hair  was 
fhining  brown,  and  her  features  regular  and 
ftriking ;  there  was  an  air  of  innocent  gaiety 
that  played  about  her  countenance,  where 
good  humor  fat  triumphant. 


CHARLOTTE.         ll£ 

N  I  have  been  miflaken,"  faid  Montraville, 
"  I  imagined  I  loved  Charlotte  ;  but  alas  1  I 
am  too  late  convinced  my  attachment  to  her 
was  merely  the  impulfe  of  a  moment.  I  fear 
I  have  not  only  entailed  lalling  mifery  on 
that  poor  gir',  but  alfo  thrown  a  barrier  in 
the  way  of  my  own  happinefs,  which  it  will 
be  irnpoffible  to  furmount.  I  feel  I  love  Ju- 
lia Franklin  wrih  ardor  and  iincerity  ;  yet, 
when  in  her  prefence,  I  am  fenfible  of  my 
own  inability  to  offer  a  heart  worthy  her  ac- 
ceptance, and  remain  filent." 

Full  of  thefe  painful  thoughts,  Montraville 
walked  out  to  lee  Charlotte  :  (he  faw  hint 
approach,  and  ran  out  to  meet  him  ;  me  ban- 
ifhed  from  her  countenance  the  air  of  difcon- 
tent  which  ever  appeared  when  he  was  ab« 
fent,  and  met  him  with  a  fmile  of  joy. 

"  I  thought  you  had  forgot  me,  Montra- 
ville," faid  lhe,  "  and  was  very  unhappy." 

"  I  fhall  never  forget  you,  Charlotte,"  he 
replied,  preffing  her  hand. 

The  uncommon  gravity  of  his  counte- 
nance, and  the  brevity  of  his  reply,  alarm- 
ed her. 

"You  are  not  well,"  faid  (he  ;  "your 
hand  is  hot ;  your  eyes  are  heavy  ;  you  are 
very  ill.' » 


116         CHARLOTTE, 

"I  am  a  villian,"  faid  he  mentally,  as  lie 
turned  from  her  to  hide  his  emotions. 

"  But  come,"  continued  flie  tenderly, 
*j  you  fhall  go  to  bed,  and  I  will  fit  by  and 
watch  you  ;  you  will  be  better  when  you 
have  flept." 

Montr&ville  was  glad  to  retire,  and  by 
pretending  fleep,  concealed  the  agitation'  of 
his  mind  from  her  penetrating  eye.  Char- 
lotte  watched  by  him  till  a  latehour,and  then 
lying  foftly  down  by  his  fide,  funk  into  a 
profound  fleep,  from  whence  {he  awoke  not 
till  late  the  next  morning. 


e  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E.         1 W 


OVjI.PT  EX.      XX. 


Virtu-e  ««ver  appear*  foamiibleas-vrhren  reaching  -forrii  kffr 
kafld  to  raife  a  fallen  lifter. 

«HAPfE*    OF    ACCIDENTS. 

W  iTEar  Chaf  lotte  awoke,  fhemnTed Mon- 
traville  ;  :but  thinking  he  might  have  -arifen 
early  to  enjoy  the  beauties  of  the  morning, 
(he  was  preparing  to  follow  him,  when  cast- 
ing her -eye  on  the  table,  fhefaw  a  note,  and 
opening  it  haftily,  found  thefe  words.... 

"  My  dear  Charlotte  muft  not  be  furprifed 
if  file  does  not  fee  me  again  for  fome  time  : 
unavoidable  foufmefs  will  prevent  me  that 
pleafure  :  be  ami  red  I  am  quite  well  this 
morning ;  and  what  your  fond  imagination 
magnified  into  illnefs,  was  nothing  more  than 
fatigue,  which  a  few  hours  reft  has  entirely 
removed.  Make  yourfelf  happy,  and  be  cer- 
tain of  the  unalterable  friendfhip  of 

MONTRAVILLE."  ' 

*'  Friendship  /"  faid  Charlotte  emphati- 
cally, as  fhe  fmiihed  the  note,  '*  is  it  come 
to  this  at  laft  ?  Alas  !   poor  forfaken  Char- 


118         CHARLOTTE. 

iotte  !  thy  doom  is  now  but  too  apparent. --- 
Montraville  is  no  longer  interefled  in  thy 
happinefs ;  and  fhame,  rernorfe,  and  difap- 
pointed  love  will  henceforth  be  thy  only  at- 
tendants." 

Though  thefe  were  the  ideas  that  involun- 
tarily rumed  upon  the  mind  of  Charlotte  as 
fhe'perufed  the  fatal  note, yet  after  afew hours 
had  elapfed,  the  fyren  Hope  again  took  pof- 
fefiion  of  her  bofom,  and  fhe  flattered  herfelf 
fhe  could,  on  a  fecend  perufal,  difcover  an 
air  of  tendernefs  in  the  few  lines  he  had  left, 
which  had  at  firft  efcaped  her  notice.  "He 
©ertainly  cannot  be  fo  bafe  as  to  leave  me^" 
faid  flie  ;  "  and  in  (tiling  himfelf  my  friend, 
does  he  not  promife  to  protect  me  ?  I  willnot 
torment  myfelf  with  thefe  caufelefs  fears  ;  I 
will  place  a  confidence  in  his  honor,  and  fure 
he  will  not  be  fo  unjuft  as  to  abufe  it." 

:  Juft  as  fhe  had  by  this  manner  of  reafoa- 
ing  brought  her  mind  to  fome  tolerable  de- 
gree of  compofure,  fiie  was  furprifed  by  a 
viht  from  Befcour.  The  dejeclion  vifibie  in 
Charlotte's  countenance,  her  fwoln  eyes  and 
neglected  attire,  at  once  told  him  fhe  Was 
unhappy  :  he  made  no  doubt  but  Montra- 
ville had,  by  his  coldnefs,  alarmed  her  fuf- 
picions,  and  was  reiblved,  if  poffible,  to  roufe 
her  to  jealoufy,  urge  her  to  reproach  him, 
And  by  th?^- means  occafion  a  breach  between 
them.     "  If  I  can  once  convince  her  that  flie 


CHARLOTTE.         119 

has  a  rival,"  faidhe,  "  fhe  will  liften  to  my 
paffion,  if  it  is  only  to  revenge  his  flights." 
Belcour  -knew  but  little  of  the  female  heart  ; 
and  what  he  did  know,  was  only  of  thofe  of 
loofe  and  diffolute  lives.  He  had  no  idea, 
that  a  woman  might  fall  a  victim  to  impru- 
dence, and  yet  retain  fo  ftrong  a  fenfe  of 
honor,  as  to  reject  with  horror  and  contempt 
every  folicitation  to  a  fecond  fault.  He  never 
imagined  that  a  gentle,  generous  female 
heart,  once  tenderly  attached,  when  treated 
with  unkindnefs,  might  break,  but  would 
never  harbor  a  thought  of  revcnsre. 

His  vifit  was  not  long,  but  before  he  went, 
he  fixed  a  fcorpion  in  the  heart  of  Charlotte 
whofe  venom  embittered  every  future  hour 
of  her  life. 

We  wTill  now  return  for  a  moment  to  Co- 
lonel Craytoh.  He  had  been  three  months 
married,  and  in  that  little  time  had  difcover- 
ed  that  the  Conduct  of  his  lady  was  not  fo 
prudent  as  it  ought  to  have  been ;  but  re- 
monltrarice  was  vain;  her  temper  was.  vio- 
lent ;  and  to  the  Colonel's  great  misfortune 
he  had  Conceived  a  fmcere  affection  for  her  : 
flie  few  her  own  power,  and,  with  the  art  of 
a  Circe,  made  every  action  appear  to  him  in 
what  light  (he  pleafed :  his  acquaintance 
laughed  at  his  biindnefs,  his  friends  pitied 
his  infatuation,  his  amiable  daughter,  Mrs:. 
Beauchamp,  in,  fecrel,  deplored  the  leas-  of 


120         G  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  &. 

her  father's  affection,  and  grieved  that  h« 
fhould  be  fo  entirely  fwayed  by  an  ariful  and, 
flie  much  feared,  infamous  woman. 

Mrs.  Beauchamp  was  mild  and  engaging:; 
(lie  loved  not  the  hurry  and  buflle  gI  a  city, 
and  had  prevailed  on  her  hufband  to  take  a 
houfe  a  few  miles  from  New- York,  Chance 
led  her  into  the  fame  neighborhood  with 
Charlotte  :  their  houfes  Hood  within  a  fhort 
fpace  of  each  other,  and.  their  gardens  join- 
ed :  fhe  had  not  been  long  in  her  new  habi- 
tation before  the  figure  of  Charlotte  flruck 
her  ;  fhe  recollected  her  interefting  features; 
fhe  faw  the  melancholy  fo  confpicuous  in 
her  countenance,  and  her  heart  bled  at  the 
refle&ion,  that  perhaps .  deprived  of  honor, 
friends,  and  all  that  was  valuable  in  life,  fhe 
was  doomed  to  linger  out  a  wretched  exift- 
ence  in  a.,  ftrange  land,_.  and  ..fink  broken- 
hearted into  an  untimely  grave.  "  Would 
to  heaven  I  could  match  her  from  fo  hard  .a 
fate,"  laid  fhe  :  "  but  the  mercilefs  world 
has  barred  the  doors  of  compalBon  againft  a 
poor  weak  girl,  who,  perhaps,  had  fhe  one 
kind  friend  to  raife  and  re-affure  her,  would 
gladly  return  to  peace  and  virtue.  Nay, 
even  the  woman  who  dares  to  pity,  and  en- 
deavor to  recall  a  wandering  filler,  incurs 
the  fneer  of  contempt  .and  ridicule,  for 
an  action  in.  which  even  angels  are  faid  t* 
rejoice." 


C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  £.         121 

The.  longer  Mrs.  Beauchamp  was  a  wit- 
nefs  to  the  folitary  life  Charlotte  led,  the 
more  flie  wifhed  to  fpeak  to  her  ;  and  often 
as  (lie  few  her  cheeks  wet  with  the  tears  of 
anguiili,  (lie  would  fay — "dear  fufferer, 
how  gladly  would  I  pour  into  your  heart  the 
balm  of  confolation,  were  it  not  for  the  fear 
of  deriuon." 

But  'An  accident  foon  happened,  which 
made  her  refolve  to  brave  e\en  the  IcoffV  of 
the  world,  rather  than  not  enjoy  the  heaven- 
ly fatisfaction  of  comforting  a  defponding 
fellow-creature. 

Mrs.  Beauchamp  was  an  early  rifer.  She 
was  one  morning  walking  in  the  garden, 
leaning  on  her  hulband's  arm,  when  the 
found  of  a  harp  attracted  their  notice  :  they 
liilencd  attentively,  and  heard  a  loft  melo- 
dious voice  diitinclly  ling  the  following 
ftanzas  :--- 


Thou  glorious  orb,  supremely  bright, 

Just  rising  from  the  sea, 
To  chear  all  nature  with  thy  light, 

What  are  thy  beams  to  me  ? 


In  vain  thy  glories  bid  me  rise. 

To  hail  the  new-born  day  ; 
Aliis  !  .my  morning  sacrifice 

Is  st ill  to  wee;)  and  pray. 

vol.  2.  i 


122         CHARLOTTE. 

For  what  are  nature's  charms  combin'd, 
To  one,  whose  weary  breast 

Can  neither  peace  or  comfort  find, 
Nor  friend  whereon  to  rest  ? 

Oh,  never  !  never !  whilst  I  live 
Can  my  heart's  anguish  cease  : 

Come,  friendly  death,  thy  mandate  give, 
And  let  me  be  at  peace. 


44  'Tis  poor  Charlotte  !"  faid  Mrs.  Beau- 
champ,  the  pellucid  drop  of  humanity  Heal- 
ing down  her  cheek. 

Captain  Bcauchamp  was  alarmed  at  her 
e-motion.  "What  Charlotte:'''  faid  he; 
11  do  you  know  her  ?" 

In  the  accent  of  a  pitying  angel  did  fhe 
difciofe  to  her  huiband,  Charlotte's  unhappy 
fituation,  and  the  frequent  wifhfhe  had  form- 
ed of  being  ferviceable  to  her.  "  I  fear," 
continued  ihe,  "  the  poor  girl  has  been  baie- 
Iv  betrayed  ;  and  if  I  thought  you  would  not 
blame  me,  I  would  pay  her  a  viiit,  offer  her 
my  friendfhip,  and  endeavor  to  reilore  to  her 
heart  that  peace  (he  feems  to  have  loll,  and 
fo  pathetically  laments.  Who  knows,  ray 
dear,"  laying  her  hand  affectionately  on  his 
arm,  "  who  knows,  but  fhe  has  left  fame 
kind,  affectionate  parents  to  lament  her  er- 
rors, and  would  fhe  return,  they  might  with 
rapture  receive  the  poor  penitent,  and  wafh 
away  her  faults  in  tears  of  joy.      Oh  !   wbit 


CHARLOTTE.         123 

a  glorious  reflection  would  it  be  for  me,  could 
I  be  the  happy  inflrument  of  reiloring  her. 
Her  heart  may  not  be  depraved,  Beau- 
champ." 

"  Exalted  woman  !"  cried  Beauchamp, 
embracing  her,  "  how  doll  thou  rife  every 
moment  in  my  eileem.  Follow  the  impulfe 
of  thy  generous  heart,  my  Emily.  Let  prudes 
and  fools  cenfure,  if  they  dare,  aad  blame  a 
fenfibility  they  never  felt :  I  wilrexultingly 
tell  them  that  the  truly  virtuous  heart  is  ever, 
inclined  to  pity  and  forgive  the  errors  of  its 
fellow-  creatures.. " 

A  beam  of  exulting  joy  played  round  the 
animated  countenance  of  Mrs.  Beauchamp, 
at  thefe  encomiums  bellowed  on  her  by  a 
beloved  huiband  ;  the  mcfl  delightful  fer.fa- 
tions  pervaded  her  heart,  and,  having  break, 
foiled,  ihe  prepared  to  viiit  Charlotte. 


CHARLOTTE.         12 


CHAPTER      XXI, 


A  BENEVOLENT  VISIT. 


Teach  me  to  feel  another's  woe  ; 
To  hide  the  fault  I  fee  : 
That  mercy  I  to  others  (how, 
That  mercy  fhow  to  mc. -Pope. 


hen  Mrs.  Beauchamp  was  dreffed,  (he 
began  to  feel  embarraffed  at  the  thought  of 
beginning  an  acquaintance  with  Charlotte, 
and  was  diftrefTed  how  to  make  the  firit  vifit. 
"  I  cannot  go  without  ibme  introduction,'' 
faid  ilie.  "  It  will  look  like  impertinent  cu- 
riofitv. ' '  At  length,  recolleftinff  herfelf,  ftie 
ftepped  into  the  garden,  and  gathering  a  [cw 
fine  cucumbers,  took  them  in  her  Jiand  by 
way  of  anolosrv  for  her  viiit. 

A  glow  of  confeious  fliame  vermillioned 
Charlotte's  face  as  Mrs.  Beauchamp  entered. 
I.  2 


125         CHAR  L  O  T  T  E. 

"  You  will  pardon  me,  Madam,"  laid  fee, 
u  for  not  having  before  paid  my  refpecls  to 
ib  amiable  a  neighbor  ;  but  we  Englifh  peo* 
pie  always  keep  up,  wherever  we  go,  that  re- 
serve which  is  the  eharacleriftic  of  our  na- 
tion. I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  bring  you 
a  few  cucumbers  ;  for  I  obferved  3  ou  had 
none  in  your  garden." 

Charlotte,  though  naturally  polite  and  well 
bred,  v.  as  fo  confuted  me  could  hardly  fpeak. 
Her  kind  vifitor  endeavored  to  relieve  her 
by  not  noticing  her  embarra{Tment.  "  I  am 
come,  Madam,"  continued  {he,  "  to  requcft 
you  to  fpend  the  day  with  me,  I  fhall  be 
alone  ;  and  as  we  are  both  Grangers  in  this 
country,  we  may  hereafter  be  extremely  hap- 
py in  each  other's  friendfhip," 

"  Yosr  friendfhip,  Madam,"  faid  Char- 
lotte, bluihing,  "  is  an  honor  to  all  who  are 
fevered  with  it.  Little  as  I  have  teen  of  this 
part  of  the  world,  lam  no  firangcr  to  Mrs, 
Beau  champ's  goodnefs  of  heart  and  knows 

humanity  :  but  my  friendfhip "       She 

paufed,  glanced  her  eye  upon  her  own  vifible 
fituaiion,  and,  fpite  of  her  endeavors  to  fup? 
prefs  them,  buift  into  tears, 

Mrs.  Beancharnp  guefied  the  fmirce  from. 
whence  thofe  tears  flowed."  "  You  feem  un, 
happy,  Madam,"  laid  me :  "  mail  I  be 
fought  worthy  your  confidence  ?    \\\\l  \o\\ 


CHARLOTTE.         127 

entruft  me  with  the  caufe  of  your  forrow,  and 
reft  on  my  afTurances  to  exert  my  utmoit 
power  to  ferve  you  :"  Charlotte  returned  a 
look  of  gratitude,  but  could  not  fpeak,  and 
Mrs.  Beauchamp  continued...."  My  heart 
was  interefted  in  your  behalf  the  lirft  mo- 
ment I  faw  you  ;  and  I  only  lament  I  had  not 
made  earlier  overtures,,  towards  an  acquain-r 
tance  ;  but  I  flatter  myfelf  you  will  hence- 
forth confider  me  as  your  friend." 

<<  Oh,  Madam!"  cried  Charlotte,  "I  have, 
forfeited  the  good  opinion  of  all  my  friends  ; 
I  have  forfaken  them,  and  undone  myfelf." 

"  Come,  come, my  dear,"  faid  Mrs.  Beau- 
champ,  "  you  mull  not  indulge  thefe  gioomv 
thoughts  :  you  are  not,  I  hope,  fo  unhappy 
as  you  imagine  yourfelf :  endeavor  to  be 
compofed,  and  let  me  be  favored  with  your 
company  at  dinner,  when,  if  you  can  bring 
yourfelf  to  think  me  your  friend,  and  repofe 
a  confidence  in  me,  I  am  ready  to  convince 
you  that  it  (hall  not  be  abufed."  She  then 
iirofe  and  bade  her  good  morning. 

At  the  dining  hour,  Charlotte  repaired  to 
Mrs.  Beauchamp' s,  and  during  dinner  aiTum-, 
ed  as  compofed  an  afnecl  as  poiuble  ;  but 
when  the  cloth  was  removed,  me  fummonedt 
all  her  refolution  and  determined  to  make 
JVIrs.  Beauchamp  -Acquainted  with  every  cii\ 
cumlknce  preceding  her  elopement,  and  the 


128         C  II  A  RLOTT  E. 

earned  defire  fhe  had  to  quit  a  way  of  life  fa 
repugnant  to  her  feelings. 

With  the  benignant  afpec\  of  an  angel  of 
mercy  did  Mrs.  Beauchamp  liften  to  the  art- 
lefs  tale  ;  ihe  was  fhbcked  to  the  foul  to  find 
hov»  large  a  fnare  La  Rue  had  in  the  fcduc- 
tion  of  this  amiable  girl,  and  a  tear  fell  when 
ihe  reflected  that  fo  vile  a  woman  was  now 
the  wife  of  her  father.  When  Charlotte  had 
iinifhcd,  ihe  gave  her  a  little  time  to  'collecl 
her  fcattered  i'pirits,  and  then  -  aiked  her,  if 
ihe  had  never  written  to  her  friends  ? 

"  Oh  yes,  Madam,"  faid  (lie,  "  frequent- 
ly ;  but  I  have-  broke  their  hearts  ;  they  are 
all  either  dead  or  have  call  me  off  forever, 
for  1  have  never  received  a  fingle  line  from 
them." 

"  I  rather  fufpeeV'  faid  Mrs.  Beauchamp, 
"they  have  never  had  your  letters  :  but  fup- 
pofe  you  were  to  hear  from  them,  and  they 
were  willing  to  receive  you,  would  yon  then 
leave  this  cruel  Montraviile,  and  return  to 
them  ?M 

"  Would  I  !"  faid  Cliarlotte,  clafpingher 
hands  :  u  would  not  the  poor  failor,  toil  o» 
a  tempefluous  ocean,  threatened  every  mo- 
ment with  death,  gladly  return  to  the  Ihore 
he  had  left  to  truil  to  its  deceitful  calmnefs  ? 
Oh,  my  dear  Madam,  I  would  return,  though 


CHARLOTTE.         129 

to  do  it  I  v,  ere  obliged  to  walk  barefooted 
and  beg  a  fcanty  pittance  of  each  traveller 
to  fupport  my  exiilence.  I  would  endure 
it  all  cheerfully,  could  I  but  once  more  fee 
my  dear  bleffed  mother,  hear  her  pronounce 
my  pardon,  and  blefs  me  before  I  died  ;  but 
alas !  I  fhall  never  fee  her  more ;  fhe  has 
blotted  the  ungrateful  Charlotte  from  her  re- 
membrance, and  I  fhall  fink  to  the  grave 
leaded  with  her's  and  my  father's  curfe." 

Mrs.  Beauchamp  endeavored  to  footh  her. 
"  You  fhall  write  to  them  again,'1  faid  fhe, 
"  and  I  will  fee  that  the  letter  is  fent  by  the 
firfl  packet  that  fails  for  England  ;  in  the 
mean  time  keep  up  your  fpirits,  and  hope 
for  every  thing,  by  daring  to  deferve  it." 

She  then  turned  the  converfation,  and 
Charlotte  having  taken  a  cup  of  tea,  wifhed 
her  benevolent  friend  a  good  evening* 


CHARLOTTE.         131 


— ^Q0QQQQ&^>QG2Q&&G:smm 


QUA?  T  E  R       XXII. 


SORROWS  OF  THE  HEART'. 


W  hen  Charlotte  returned  home,  fhe  en- 
deavored to  collect  her  thoughts*,  and  took 
up  a  pen  in  order  to  addrefs  thofe  dear  pa- 
rents, whom,  fpite  of  her  errors,  fhe  ft  ill  lov- 
ed with  the  utmofl  tendernefs  ;  but  vain  was 
every  effort  to  write  with  the  leaft  coherence ; 
her  tears  fell  fo  fall  they  ajmoft  blinded  her  : 
and  as  fhe  proceeded  to  defcribe  her  unhap- 
py lituation,  fhe  became  fo  agitated,  that  fhe 
was  obliged  to  give  over  the  attempt,  and 
retire  to  bed,  where,  overcome  with  the  fa- 
tigue her  mind  had  undergone,  ihe  fell  into 
a  Humber,  which  greatly  refrefhed  her.  She 
arofe  in  the  morning  with  fpirits  more  ade- 
quate to  the  painful  talk  (lie  had  to  perform, 
and,  after  feveral  attempts,  at  length  conclud- 
ed the  following  letter  to  her  mother  : 


132         CHARLOTTE. 

To  Mrs.  Temple. 

Nhv-Tork. 
"  Will  my  once  kind,  my  ever-beloved 
mother,  deign  to  receive  a  letter  from  her 
guilty,  but  repentant  child  ?  or  has  ilie,  juft- 
ly  inccnfed  at  my  ingratitude,  driven  the  un- 
happy Charlotte  from  her  remembrance  ? 
Alas  !  thou  much  injured  mother  !  ihoukiit 
thou  even  difown  me,  I  dare  not  complain, 
becaufe  I  know  I  have  deferred  it ;  but  yett 
believe  me,  guilty  as  I  am,  and  cruelly  as  I 
have  difappointedthe  hopes  of  the  fondell  pa- 
rents that  ever  girl  had,  even  in  the  moment 
when,  forgetful  of  my  duty,  I  Red  from  you 
and  happinefs,  even  then  I  loved  you  mod, 
and  my  heart  bled  at  the  thought  of  what 
you  would  fuffer.  Oh  !  never,  never  !  while 
I  have  exiftence,  will  the  agony  of  that  mo- 
ment be  erafed  from  my  memory.  It  feem- 
ed  like  the  feparation  of  foul  from  body.--- 
What  can  1  plead  in  excufe  for  my  conduct  ? 
alas  !  nothing !  That  I  loved  my  fcducer  is 
but  too  true  !  yet  powerful  as  that  paffion  is, 
when  operating  in  a  young  heart  glowing 
with  fcniibility,  it  never  would  have  conquer- 
ed my  aife'Slion  to  you,  my  beloved  parents, 
had  I  not  been  encouraged,  nay,  ursred  to 
take  the  fatal  Hep  by  one  of  my  own  fcx, 
who,  under  the  mafk  of  frie&dfhip,  drew  the 
on  to  ruin.  Yet  think  not  your  Charlotte 
was  fo  loft  as  to  voluntarily  rufh  into  a  life  of 
infamy  :  No,  my  dear  mother,   deceived  by 


CHARLOTTE.         133 

the  fpecious  appearance  of  my  betrayer,  and 
every  fufpicion  lulled  afleep  by  the  moil  fo- 
lemn  promifes  of  marriage,  1  thought  not? 
thofe  promifes  would  fo  eafily  be  forgotten. 
I  never  once  reflecledthat  the  man  who  could 
Hoop  to  feduction,  would  not  hefitate  to  for- 
fake  the  wretched  obje&t  of  his  pafiion,  when- 
ever his  capricious  heart  grew  weary  of  her 
tendernefs.  When  we  arrived  at  this  place, 
I  vainly  expected  him  to  fulfil  his  engage- 
ments ;  but  was  at  laft  fatally  convinced  he 
had  never  intended  to  make  me  his  wife,  or 
if  he  had  once  thought  of  it,  his  mind  was 
now  altered,  I  fcorhed  to  claim  from  his 
humanity  what  I  could  not  obtain  from  his 
love:  I  was  confeious  of  having  forfeited  the 
only  gem  that  could  render  me  refpeclable 
in  the  eye  of  the  world,  I  locked  my  for- 
rows  in  my  own  bofom,  and  bore  my  inju- 
ries in  filence.  But  how  fhall  I  proceed  ?--- 
This  man,  this  cruel  Montraville,  for  whom 
I  facrinced  honor,  happinefs,  and  the  love  cf 
nry  friends,  no  longer  looks  on  me  with  af- 
fection, but  fcorns  the  credulous  girl  whom, 
his  art  has  made  miferable.  Could  you  fee 
me,  my  dear  parents,  without  fociety,  with- 
out friends,  flung  with  remorfe,  and  (I  feel 
the  burning  blulh  of  fliame  die  my  eheeks 
while  I  write  it)  tortured  with  the  "par.p-s  of 
difappointed  love  ;  cut  to  the  foul  by  the  in. 
difference  of  him,  who,  having  deprived  me 
of  every  other  comfort,  no  longer  thicks  it 
worth  his  while  to  footh  the  heart  where  he 
vol.  2,  m 


134         C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

has  planted  the  thorn  of  never-ceafihg  regret. 
My  daily  employment  is  to  think  ofytou  raid 
weep,  to  pray  for  your  happinefs,  and  de- 
plore my  own  folly  :  my  nights  are  fcaree 
more  happy  ;  for  if  by  chance  I  clofe  my 
weary  eyes,  and  hope  fome  fmall  forgetful- 
nefs  of  lorrow,  fome  little  time  to  pafs  in 
fweet  oblivion,  fancy,  ftill  wakr^ft  wafts  me 
home  to  you  :  I  fee  your  beloved  forms  :  I 
kneel  and  hear  the  bleffed  words  of  peace  and 
pardon.  Extatie  joy  pervades  my  foul  ;  I 
reach  my  arms  to  catch  your  dear  embraces  ^ 
the  motion  chafes  the  iliuiive  dream  ;  I  Make 
to  real  mifery.  At  other  times  1  fee  my  fa- 
ther angry  and  frowning,  point  to  horrid 
eaves,  where,  on  the  cold  damp  ground,  in 
the  agonies  of  death;  I  fee  my  dear  mother 
and  my  revered  grand-father.  I  ft. live  to 
raife  you  ;  you  pufh  me  horn  you,  and 
fhrieking,  cry tl  Charlotte,  thou  hail  mur- 
dered me  !"  Horror  and  defpair  tear  every 
tortured  nerve  ;  I  ftart,  and  leave  my  reiiicis 
bedj  weary  and  unrefrefhed, 

"  Schocking  as  thefe  reflections  are,  I  have, 
yet  one  more  dreadful  than  the  reft.  Mo- 
ther, my  dear  mother  !  do  not  let  me  quite 
break  your  heart  when  I  tell  you,  in  a  few 
<me?nths  I  (hall  b^ing  into  the  world  an  inno- 
Sfce'nt  '.« itneJ  i  of  my  guilt.  Oh  my  bleeding 
heart  •  *  i**&$  hi-iv^  a  poor  little  helpief^ 
creature,  brie  to  hikyaiy  and  (hame. 


CHARLOTTE.         135 

u  This  alone  has  urged  me  once  more  to 
addrefsyou,  to  interelt  you  m  behalf  of  this 
poor  unborn,  and  begayou  to  extend  your  . 
protection  to  the  child  of  your  loft  Charlotte: 
for  my  own  part,  I  have  wrote  fo  often,  fo 
frequently  have  pleaded  for  forgivenefs,  and 
entreated  to  be  received  once  more  beneath 
the  paternal  roof,  that  having  received  no  an- 
fwer,  nor  even  one  line,  I  much  fear  you 
have  call  me  from  you  forever. 

"  But  Hire  you  cannot  refufe  to  protect  my 
innocent  infant ;  it  partakes  not  Gf  its  mo- 
ther's  guilt.  Oh  my  father,  oh  beloved  mo- 
ther, now  do  1  feel  the  anguifh  I  infiicled  on 
your  hearts  recoiling  with  double  force  up- 
on my  own. 

"  If  my  child  fhouid  be  a  girl  (which  hea- 
ven forbid)  tell  her  the  unhappy  fate  of  her 
mother,  and  teach  her  to  avoid  my  errors;  if 
a  boy,  teach  him  to  lament  my  miferies,  but 
tell  him  not  who  inflicted  them,  left,  in  with- 
ing  to  revenge  his  mother's  injuries,  he 
Iliould  wound  the  peace  of  his  father. 

"  And  now,  dear  friends  of  inv  foul,,  kind 
guardians  of  my  infancy,  farewell.  I  feel  I 
never  more  mult  hope  to  fee  you  ;  the  an- 
guifh of  my  heart  ftrikes  at  the  firings  of 
life,  and  in  a  fhorf  time  I  {hall  be  at  rell.--- 
Oh  !  could  I  but  receive  your  blef&hg  and 
fergivenels  before!  died,   it   would  fmeoth 


136        CHARLOTTE. 

my  paffuge  to  the  peaceful  grave,  and  be  a 
bleffed  foretafte  of  a  happy  eternity.  I  be- 
feechyou,  curie  me  not,  my  adored  parents; 
but  let  a  tear  of  pity  and  pardon  fall  to  the 
memory  of  your  Iok 

CHARLOTTE." 


CHARLOTTE.         137 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 


A  MAN  MAY  SMILE,  AND  SMILE,  AND  BE 
A  VILLAIN. 

VV  kile  Charlotte  was  enjoying  Tome  fmall 
degree  of  comfort  in  the  confoling  friendfiiip 
of  Mrs.  Beauchamp,  Montravilk  was  ad- 
vancing rapidly  in  his  affeftion  towards  Mils 
Franklin.  Julia  was  an  amiable  girl  ;  ihe 
faw  only  the  fair  fide  of  his  character  ;  ilie 
poileifed  an  independent  fortune,  and  refolv- 
ed  to  be  happy  with  the  man  of  her  heart, 
though  his  rank  and  fortune  were  bv  no 
means  fo  exalted  as  (lie  had  aright  to  ex- 
pect ;  ilie  law  the  paffian  which  Montraviile 
iiruggled  to  conceal ;  ilie  wondered  at  his  ti- 
midity, but  imagined  the  diftance  fortune 
had  placed  between  them  occaiioned  his 
backwardnefs.  She  therefore  made  every 
advance  which  ftri£fc  prudence  and  a  becom- 
ing modefty  would  permit.  Montraviile  f;uv 
with  pleafure  he  was  not  indifferent  to  her  ; 
but  a  fpark  of  honor  which  animated  his  b  ;- 
fom  would  not  infer  him  to  tike  advantage 
of  .her  partiality.  He  was  well  acquaints  J 
with  Charlotte's  iiiuation,  and  he   lhon0U: 


138         CHARLOTTE. 

there  would  be  a  double  cruelty  in  forfaking 
her  at  fuch  a  time  ;  and  to  m&ry  Mils 
Franklin,  while  honor,  humanity,  every  fa- 
cred  law,  obliged  him  Hill  to  protect  and  fup- 
port  Charlotte,  was  a  bafenefs  at  which  his 
foul  fhuddered. 

He  communicated  his  uneafmefs  to  Bel- 
eour  :  it  was  the  very  thing  this  pretended 
friend  had  wilhed.  "  And  do  you  really," 
faid  he,  laughing,  "  hefitate  at  marrying  the 
lovely  Julia,  and  becoming  mailer  of  her  for- 
tune, becaufe  a  little  fooliih,  fond  girl  chofe 
to  leave  her  friends,  and  run  away  with  you 
to  America  ?  Dear  Montraville,  acl  more 
like  a  man  of  fenfe  ;  this  whining,  pinfat* 
Charlotte,  who  occafions  you  fo  much  un- 
eafmefs, would  have  eloped  with  fomebody 
clfe,  if  (he  had  not  with  you." 

u  Would  to  heaven,"  faid  Montraville, 
"  I  had  never  feen  her  ;  my  regard  for  her 
was  but  the  momentary  paflion  of  defire  ;  but 
1  feel  I  (hall  love  and  revere  Julia  Franklin 
as  long  as  I  live  ;  yet  to  leave  poor  Charlotte 
in  her  prefent  fituation  would  be  cruel  be- 
yond defcription." 

"  Oh,  my  good  fentimental  friend,"  faid 
Belcour,  u  do  you  imagine  that  nobody  has 
a  right  to  provide  for  die  brat  but  yourfelf?" 

Montraville  ftarted.  "  Sure,"  faid  he/ 
"  you  cannot  mean  to  infuiuate  that  Charlotte 
is'falie." 


CHARLOTTE;         13? 

"I  don't  infinuate  it,"  faid  Belqour,  "  I 
know  it." 

Montraville  turned  pale  as  afhes.  u  Then 
there  is  no  faith  in  woman,"  faid  he. 

"  While  I  thought  you  attached  to  her," 
faid  Belcour,  with  an  air  of  indifference,  "  I 
never  wilhed  to  make  you  uneafy  by  men- 
tioning' her  perfidy;  but  as  I  know  you  love 
and  are  beloved  by  Mifs  Franklin,  I  was.  de- 
termined not  to  let  thefe  foolifh  fcruples  of 
honor  Hep  between  you  and  happinefs,  or 
your  tendernefs  for  the  peace  of  a  perfidious 
girl,  prevent  your  uniting  yourfelf  to  a  wo- 
man of  honor." 

"  Good  heavens  !"  faid  Montraville,-- - 
"  what  poignant  reflections  does  a  man  en- 
dure who  fees  a  lovely  woman  plunged  in 
infamy,  and  is  confeious  he  was  her  firit 
feducer  ;  but  are  you  certain  of  what  you 
fay,  Belcour  ?" 

"  So  far,"  replied  he,  "  that  I  myfelf  have 
received  advances  from  her,  which  I  would 
not  take  advantage  of  out  of  regard  to  you  : 
but  hang  it,  think  no  more  about  her.  I 
dined  at  Franklin's  to-day,  and  Julia  bid  me 
feek  and  bring  you  to  tea  :  fo  come  along, 
my  lad,  make  good  ufe  of  opportunity,  and 
feize  the  gifts  of  fortune  while  they  are  with- 
in your  reach." 


14®         CHARLOTTE. 

Montraville  was  too  much  agitated  to  pafs 
a  happy  evening  even  in  the  company  of  Ju- 
lia Franklin  :  he  determined  to  viiit  Char- 
lotte early  the  next  morning,  tax  her  with 
her  fallhood,  and  take  an  everlaiting  leave  of 
her ,  but  when  the  morning  came  he  was 
commanded  on  duty,  and  for  fix  weeks  was- 
prevented  from  putting  his  defign  in  execu- 
tion. At  length  he  found  an  hour  to  fpare, 
and  walked  out  tofpend  it  with  Charlotte: 
it  was  near  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
when  he  arrived  at  her  cottasre  :  ihe  was  not 
in  the  parlour,  and  without  calling  her  fer- 
vant,  he  walked  up  Hairs,  thinking  to  find 
her  in  her  bed  room.  He  opened  the  door, 
and  the  firfc  object  that  met  his  eyes  was 
Charlotte  afleep  on  the  bed,  and  BelCoitr  by 
her  fide. 

<l  Death  and  diftraclion,"  faid  he,  ilamp- 
ing,  "  this  is  too  much.  Ilife,  villain,  and 
defend  yourfelf."  Belcour  fprang  from  the 
bed.  The  nolfe  awoke  Charlotte  :  terrified 
at  the  furious  appearance  ofMonJtraville,  and 
feeing  BeTcour  withhini  in  the  chamber,  fhe 
caught  hold  of  his  arm  as  he  Hood  by  the  bed 
fide,  and  eagerly  afked  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Treacherous,  infamous  girl,"  faid  he, 
"  can  you  aik?  IIow  came  he  here  ?"  point- 
Ki2  to  Belcour. 


CHARLOTTE.         141 

"  As  heaven  is  my  witnefs,"  replied  {lie, 
weeping,  "  I  do  not  know.  I  have  not  feeii 
him  for  thefe  three  weeks." 

"  Then  you  confefs  he  fometimes  vifite 
you  ?" 

"  He  came  fometimes  by  your  dearc" 

"  'Tis  falfe  ;  I  never  defired  him  to  come, 
and  you  know  1  did  not :  but  mark  me, 
Charlotte,  from  this  inftant  our  connection 
is  at  an  end.  Let  Belcour,  or  any  other  of 
your  favored  lovers,  take  you  and  provide 
for  you  ;  I  have  done  with  you  forever." 

He  was  then  going  to  leave  her  ;  but  ftart- 
ing  wildly  from  the  bed,  Hie  threw  herfelf 
on  her  knees  before  him,  prctelling  her  it*. 
nocence  and  entreating  him  not  to  leave  her. 
"  Oh,  Montraville,"  faid  flic,  "  kilt  me,  for 
pity's  fake  kill  me,  but  do  not  doubt  my  fi- 
delity. Do  not  leave  me  in  this  horrid  filia- 
tion; for  the  fake  of  your  unborn  child,  ohi 
fpurn  not  the  wretched  mother  from  you." 

"  Charlotte,"  faid  he,  with  a  firm  voice, 
*'  I  fhall  take  care  that  neither  you  nor  your 
child  want  any  thing  in  the  approaching 
painful  hour;  but  we  meet  no  more."  He 
then  endeavored  to  raife  her  from  the  ground, 
but  in  vain  ;  fhe  clung  about  his  knees,  en- 
treating him  to  believe  her   innocent,   and 


142        CHARLOTTE. 

conjuring  Beleou-r  to  clear  up  the  dreadful 
myfieiy. 

Eelcour  caft  on  Montraville"  a  fmile  of 
contempt:  it  irritated  him  aimofi  to  madnefs; 
he  broke  fnom  the  feeble  arms  of  the  dif- 
treffed  girl ;  fhe  ihrieked  and  fell  proltrate  on 
the  floor.  Montraville  inflantly  left  the  houfe 
and  returned  haftily  to  the  city. 


CHARLOTTE.         Ha 


*  H  A  P  T  E  R    XXIV. 


MYSTERY    DEVELOPED. 

Unfortunately  for  Charlotte,  about 
three  weeks  before  this  unhappy  rencontre, 
Captain  Reauchamp,  being  ordered  to  Rhode 
Iiland,  his  lady  had  accompanied  him,  ib 
that  Charlotte  was  deprived  of  her  friendly 
advice  and  confoling  fociety.  The  afternoon 
on  which  Montraville  had  vifited  her  ihe  had 
found  herfelf  languid  and  fatigued,  and  after 
making  a  very  flight  dinner  had  lain  down 
to  endeavor  to  recruit  her  exhauiled  fpirits, 
and,  contrary  to  her  expectations,  had  fallen 
afieep.  She  had  not  been  long  lain  down, 
when  Belcour  arrived,  for  he  took  every  op- 
portunity of  viiiting  her,  and  (triving  to 
awaken  her  refentment  againil  Montraville^ 
He  enquired  of  the  fervant  where  her  mif- 
trefs  was,  and  being  told  (he  was  afieep,  took 
up  a  book  to  amufe  himfelf:  having  fat  a 
few  minutes,  he  by  chance  call  his  eyes  to-, 
wards  the  road,  and  faw  Montraville  ap- 
proaching ;  he  inftantly  conceived  the  dia- 
bolical fcheme  of  ruining  the  unhappy  Char- 
lotte in  his  opinion  for  ever  i    he  therefore 


144         CHARLOTTE. 

ftole  foftly  up  ftairs,  and  laying  himfelf  by 
her  tide  with  the  gaeateft  precaution,  for  fear 
flie  iliould  awake,  was  in  that  fituaticn  dis- 
covered by  his  credulous  friend. 

When  Montraville  fpurned  the  weeping 
Charlotte  from  him,  and  left  her  almoil  dif- 
tracled  with  terror  and  defpair,  Belcour  rail", 
ed  her  from  the  floor,  and  leading  her  down 
ftairs,  affirmed  the  part  of  a  tender,  confoling 
friend ;  (he  liftencd  to  the  arguments  he  ad- 
vanced with  apparent  compofure  ;  but  this 
was  only  the  calm  of  a  moment :  the  remem^ 
brance  of  Montraville' s  recent  cruelty,  again 
ruined  upon  her  mind  :  fhe  pufhed  him  from 
her  with  fome  violence,  and  crying,  "Leave 
me,  Sir,  I  befeech  you  leave  me,  for  much  I 
fear  you  have  been  the  caufe  of  my  fidelity 
being  fufpccled  ;  go,  leave  me  to  the  accu- 
mulated miferies  my  own  imprudence  has 
brought  upon  me." 

She  then  left  him  with  piecipitation,  and 
retiring  to  her  own  apartment,  threw  herfelf 
on  the  bed,  and  gave  vent  to  an  agony  of 
grief  which  it  is  impoffible  to  defcribe. 

It  now  occurred  to  Belcour  that  fhe  might 
pofiibly  write  to  Montraville,  and  endeavor 
to  convince  him  of  her  innocence  :  he  was 
well  aware  of  her  pathetic  remonflrances,  and 
fenfible  of  the  tendemefs  of  Montraville's 
heart,  refolved   tQ-  prevent  any  letters  ever 


CHARLOTTE.         145 

reaching  him :  he  therefore  called  the  fer- 
vant,  and  by  the  powerful  perfuafion  of  a 
bribe,  prevailed  with  her  to  promife  what- 
ever letters  her  miftrefs  might  write,  ihould 
be  fent  to  him.  He  then  left  a  polite,  ten- 
der note  for  Charlotte,  and  returned  to  New- 
York.  His  firft  bufmefs  was  to  feek  Mon- 
traville,  and  endeavor  to  convince  him  that 
what  had  happened  would  ultimately  tend  to 
his  happinefs  :  he  found  him  in  his  apart- 
ment, folitary,  penfive,  and  wrapped  in  difa- 
greeable  reflections. 

"  Why  how  now,  whining,  pining  lover  ?" 
faid  he,  clapping  him  on  the  fhoulder.  Mon- 
traviile  darted;  a  momentary  flufh  of  refent- 
ment  crolTed  his  cheek,  but  inflantiy  gave 
place  to  a  death-like  palenefs,  occafioned  by 
painful  remembrance..,. remembrance  awak- 
ened by  that  monitor,  whom,  though  we 
may  in  vain  endeavor,  we  can  never  entirely 
filence. 

"  Belcour,"  faid  he,  "  you  have  injured 
me  in  a  tender  point." 

"  Prithee,  Jack,'*  replied  Belcour,  «  .do 
not  make  a  ferious  matter  of  it :  how  could 
I  refufe  the  girl's  advances  ?  and  thank  hea- 
ven flie  is  not  your  wife." 

"  True,"  faid  Montraville  ;  "  but  flie  was 
innocent  when  I  firft  knew  her.     It  was  I  fe- 

VOL.  2o  w 


146         CHARLOTTE. 

dueed  her,  Belcour.  Had  it  not  been  for  iae, 
ihe  had  ft  ill  been  virtuous  and  happy  in  the 
affection  and  protection  of  her  family." 

"  Pfhaw,"  replied  Belcour, laughing,  "if 
you  had  not  taken  advantage  of  her  eafy  na- 
ture, feme  other  would,   and  where  is  the 
difference,  pray  :" 

*'  I  wifhed  I  had  never  feen  her,"  cried  h<j 
paffionately,  and  ftartmg  from  his  feat,  "  Oh 
that  curled  Frenchwoman,"  added  he  with 
rehemence,  u  had  it  not  been  for  her,  I 
might  have  been  happy "      He  paufed, 

"  With  Julia  Franklin,"  faid  Belcour.— 
The  name,  like  a  fudden  fpark  of  eleclric 
fire,  feemed  for  a  moment  to  fufpend  his  fa- 
culties—for  a  moment  he  was  transfixed;  but 
recovering,  he  caught  Belcour's  hand,  and 
cried---"  Stop!  Hop!  I  befecch  you,  name 
not  the  lovely  Julia  and  the  wretched  Mon- 
traville  in  the  fame  breath.  I  am  a  feducer, 
a  mean,  ungenerous  feducer  of  unfufpecling 
innocence.  I  dare  not  hope  that  purity  like 
her's  would  ftoop  to  unite  itfelf  with  black, 
premeditated  guilt:  yet  by  heavens  I  fwear, 
Belcour,  I  thought  I  loved  the  loft,  abandon-* 
ed  Charlotte  till  I  faw  Julia— I  thought  I 
never  could  forfake  her  ;  but  the  heart  is  de- 
ceitful, and  I  now  can  plainly  difcriminate 
between  the  impulfe  of  a  youthful  paflion, 
and  the  pure  flame  of  difinterefted  affection.'* 


Charlotte.       147 

At  that  inftant  Julia  Franklin  pafied   the 
window,  leaning  on  her  uncle's  arm.     She 
curtfeyed  as  the  palled,  and  with  the  bewitch- 
ing fmile  of  modeft  chearfulnefs,   cried.... 
"  Do  you  bury  yourfelves  in  the  houfe  this 
fine  evening,  gents  V  There  was  fomething 
in  the  voice  \   the  manner  !   the    look  !    that 
was  altogether  irrenftible.       *.'  Perhaps  The 
wiilies  my  company,"  faidMontraville  men- 
tally, as  he  matched  up  his  hat:    "  If  I  tho't 
ftie  loved  me,    I   would  confefs  my  errors, 
and  trull  to  her  generofity  to  pity  and  pardon 
me."  He  foon  overtook  her,  and  offering  h^r 
his  arm,  they  fauntered  to  pleafant  but   un- 
frequented walks.  Belcour  drew  Mr.  Frank- 
lin  on  one  fide  and  entered  into  a  political 
difcourfe  :  they   walked  falter  than  the  young 
people,   and  Belcour  by  fome  means  contriv- 
ed entirely  to  iofe  light  of  them.       It  was  a 
fine    evening  in  the  beginning  of  autumn  ; 
the  laft  remains  of  day -light  faintly  ftreaked 
the  weftern  Iky,   while  the   mocii,  with  pale 
and  virsrin  luftre  in  the    room  of  sroreeous 
gold  and  purple,  ornamented  the  canopy    of 
heaven  with  filver,  fleecy  clouds,  which  now 
and  then  half  hid  her  lovely  face,  and,   by 
partly  concealing,  heightened  every   beaut}' ; 
the  zephyrs  whifpered  foftly  thro'  the  trees, 
which  now  began  to  flied  their  leafy  honors  ; 
a  folemn  filence  reigned  :  and  to    a   happy 
mind  an  evening  fuch  as  this  would  give   fe- 
renitv,  and  calm,  .unruffled  pleafure  ;  but  *o 
JVlontraville,  while  it  foothed  the  turbulence 


US         CHARLOTTE 

of  his  pafiions,  it  brought  increafe  of  melan- 
choly reflections,  Julia  was  leaning  on  his 
arm  :  he  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  preffing;  it 
tenderly,  fighed  deeply,  but  continued  lilent. 
Julia  was  embarrailed ;  Ihe  wifhed  to  break 
a  filence  fo  unaccountable,  but  was  unable  ; 
ilie  loved  Montraville,  The  faw  he  was  un- 
happy, and  wjfhed  to  know  the  caufe  of  his 
uneafinefs,  but  that  innate  modefty,  which 
nature  has  implanted  in  the  female  breaft, 
prevented  her  enquiring.  tc  I  am  bad  com- 
pany, Mifs  Franklin,"  faid  he,  at  laft  recol- 
lecting himfelf ;  "  but  I  have  met  withforne- 
thing  to-day  that  has  greatly  diitreiTed  me, 
and  I  cannot  (hake  oft' the  difagreeable  hn- 
prefiion  it  has  made  on  my  mind." 

"  I  am  forry,"  fhe  replied,  "  that  you  have 
any  caufe  of  inquietude.  Iamfure  if  you  were 
as  happy  as  you   deferve,  and   as  all  your 

friends  willi  you "  She  hefitated.   "And 

might  I,"  replied  he  with  fome  animation, 
**  prelume  to  rank  the  amiable  Julia  in  that 
number  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  faid  fhe,  "  the  fervice  you 
have  rendered  me,  the  knowledge  of  your 
worth,  all  combine  to  make  me  efteem  you." 

"  Efteem,  my  lovely  Julia,"  faid  he  paf- 
fionately,  "is  but  a  poor  cold  word.  I 
would  if  I  dared,  if  I  thought  I  merited  your 
attention.... but  no,  I  mull  not.... honor  for- 


CHARLOTTE.         149 

bids.     I  am  beneath  your  notice,  Julia,  I  am 
miferable  and  cannot  hope  to  be  other  wife." 

"  Alas!"  laid  Julia,  "  I  pity  you." 

"  Oh  thou  condefcending  charmer,"  faid 
lie,  "  how  that  fweet  word  chears  my  fad 
heart.  Indeed  if  you  knew  all,  you  would 
pity  ;  but  at  the  fame  time  I  fear  you  would 
defpife  me." 

Juft  then  they  were  again  joined  by  Mr. 
Franklin  and  Belcour.  It  had  interrupted  an 
interefting  difcourfe.  They  found  it  impof- 
iible  to  converfe  on  indifferent  fubjecls,  and 
proceeded  home  in  lilence.  At  Mr.  Frank- 
lin's door  Montraville  again  preffed  Julia's 
hand,  and  faintly  articulating  "  good  night," 
retired  to  his  lodgings  difpirited  and  wretch- 
ed, from  a  confbioufnefs  that  he  deferved 
not  the  affection,  with  which  he  plainly  faw 
lie  was  honored. 


w  J 


CHARLOTTE.         151 


CHAPTER       XXV. 


RECEPTION  OF  A  LETTER. 

"  ^TLnd  where  now  is  our  poor  Charlotte  ?" 
faid  Mr.  Temple  one  evening,  as  the  cold 
blafts  of  autumn  whiffled  rudely  over  the 
heath,  and  the  yellow  appearance  of  the  dif- 
tant  wood,  fpoke  the  near  approach  of  win- 
ter. In  vain  the  chearful  fire  blazed  on  the 
hearth,  in  vain  was  he  furrounded  by  all  the 
comforts  of  life  ;  the  parent  was  ftill  alive  in 
his  heart,  and  when  he  thought  that  perhaps 
his  once  darling  child  was  ere  this  expofed 
to  all  the  miferies  of  want  in  a  diflant  land, 
without  a  friend  to  footh  and  comfort  her, 
without  the  benignant  look  of  companion  to 
chear,  or  the  angelic  voice  of  pity  to  pour  the 
balm  of  confolation  on  her  wounded  heart ; 
when  he  thought  of  this,  his  whole  foul  dif- 
folved  in  tendernefs  ;  and  while  he  wiped  the 
tear  of  anguifh  from  the  eye  of  his  patient, 
uncomplaining  Lucy,  he  ftruggled  to  fup- 
prefs  the  fympathizing  drop  that  ftarted  in 
his  own.  "  Oh,  my  poor  girl,"  faid  Mrs. 
Temple,  "how  mult  fhe  be  altered,  elfe 
furely  fne  would  have  relieved  our  agonising 


152         CHARLOTTE. 

minds  by  one  line  to  fay  fhe  lived.... to  fay 
fhe  had  not  quite  forgot  the  parents  who 
almoft  idolized  her." 

"  Gracious  heaven  !"  faid  Mr.  Temple, 
flatting  from  his  feat,  "  who  would  wiih  to 
be  a  lather,  to  experience  the  agonizing 
pangs  inflicted  on  a  parent's  heart  by  the  in- 
gratitude of  a  child  :"  Mrs.  Temple  wept : 
her  father  tGok  her  hand  ;  he  would  have 
faid — "  be  comforted,  my  child" — but  the 
words  died  on  his  tongue.  The  fad  filence 
that  enfued  was  interrupted  by  a  loud  rap  at 
the  door.  In  a  moment  a  fervant  entered 
with  a  letter  ia  his  hand. 

Mrs.  Temple  took  it  from  him  :  fhe  cad 
her  eyes  upon  the  fuperfcription  ;  Hie  knew 
the  writing----"  'Tis  Charlotte,"  faid  fhe, 
eagerly  breaking  the  feal,  "  fhe  has  not  quite 
forgot  us."  But  before  fhe  had  half  gone 
through  the  contents,  a  hidden  licknefs  feiz- 
ed  her  ;  flie  grew  cold  and  giddy,  and  put- 
ting it  into  her  hu (band's  hand,  fhe  cried.... 
"  Read  it :  I  cannot ."  Mr.  Temple  attempt- 
ed to  read  it  aloud,  but  frequently  paufed  to 
give  vent  to  his  tears.  "  My  poor  deluded 
child,"  faid  he,  when  he  had  finilhed. 

"Oh,  fliall  we  not  forgive  the  dear  peni- 
tent?" faid  Mrs.  Temple.  "  We  mull,  we 
will,  my  love  ;  fhe  is  .rilling  to  return,  and 
?tis  our  duty  to  receive  her." 


CHARLOTTE.         153 

"Father  of  mercy,"  faid  Mr.  Eldridge, 
raifmg  his  clafped  hands,  *'  let  me  but  live 
once  more  to  fee  the  dear  wanderer  reflored 
to  her  affiicled  parents,  and  take  me  from 
this  world  of  forrow  whenever  it  feemeth 
belt  to  thy  wifdom." 

"  Yes,  we  will  receive  her,"  faid  Mr. 
Temple  ;  "  we  will  endeavor  to  heal  her 
wounded  fpirit,  and  fpeak  peace  and  comfort 
to  her  agitated  foul.  I  will  write  to  her  to 
return  immediately." 

41  Oh  !"  faid  Mrs.  Temple,  "  I  would,  if 
pofnble,  fly  to  her,  fupport  and  chear  the 
dear  fufierer  in  the  approaching  hour  of  dif- 
trefs,  and  tell  her  how  nearly  penitence  is 
allied  to  virtue.  Cannot  we  go  and  conduct 
her  home,  my  love  ?"  continued  fhe,  laying 
her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  My  father  will  fure- 
ly  forgive  our  abfenee  if  we  go  to  bring  home 
his  darling." 

"  You  cannot  go,  my  Lucy,"  faid  Mr. 
Temple  :  "  the  delicacy  of  your  frame  would 
but  poorly  fuftain  the  fatigue  of  a  long  voy- 
age' ;  but  I  will  go  and  bring  the  gentle  pen- 
itent to  your  arms  :  we  may  (till  fee  many- 
years  of  happinefs." 

The  ftruggle  in  the  bofom  of  Mrs.  Tem- 
ple between  maternal  and  conjugal  tender- 
nefs  was  long  and  painful.      At  length  the 


154         CHARLOTTE, 

former  triumphed,  and  fhe  confented  that  her 
huiband  ffaould  fet  forward  to  New- York  by 
the  firft  opportunity  :  fhe  wrote  to  her  Char- 
lotte in  the  tendered,  moil  eonfoling  maimer, 
■and  looked  forward  to  the  happy  hour,  vvlien 
i\\z  fhould  again  embrace  her  with  the  noil 
animated  hope. 


CHARLOTTE.         155 

SHATTER     XXVI. 


WHAT  MIGHT  BE  EXPECTED. 

In  the  mean  time  the  paffion  Montraville 
had  conceived  for  Julia  Franklin  daily  en- 
creafed,  and  he  faw  evidently  how  much  he 
was  beloved  by  that  amiable  girl :  he  was 
likewife  itrongly  prepoffefled  with  an  idea 
of  Charlotte's  perfidy.  What  wonder  then  if 
he  g-ave  himfclf  up  to  the  delightful  fenfation 
which  pervaded  his  bofom  ;  and  finding  no 
obftacle  arife  to  oppofe  his  happinefs,  he  fo- 
licited  and  obtained  the  hand  of  Julia.  A 
few  days  before  his  marriage  he  thus  ad- 
drelTed  Eelcour  : 

"  Though  Charlotte,  by  her  abandoned 
conduct,  has  thrown  herfelf  from  my  protec- 
tion, I  ftill  hold  myfeif  bound  to  fupport  her 
till  relieved  from  her  prelbnt  condition,  ancj 
alfo  to  provide  for  the  child.  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  fee  her  again,  but  I  will  place  a  fura 
of  money  in  your  hands,  which  will  amply 
fupplyher  with  every  convenience;  but  {lioukl 


156        CHARLOTTE. 

flie  require  more,  let  her  have  it,  and  I  will 
fee  it  repaid.  I  wifh  I  could  prevail  on  the 
poor  deluded  girl  to  return  to  her  friends: 
She  was  an  only  child,  and  I  make  no  doubt 
but  that  they  would  joyfully  receive  her  ;  it 
would  fhoek  me  greatly  to  fee  her  henceforth 
leading  a  life  of  infamy,  as  I  fhould  always 
accufe  myfelf  of  being  the  primary  caufe  of 
all  her  errors.  If  (he  Ihould  chocfe  to  remain 
under  your  protection,  be  kind  to  her,  Bel- 
cour,  I  conjure  yo;i.  Let  not  fatiety  prompt 
you  to  treat  her  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  may 
drive  her  to  actions  which  neceility  might 
urge  her  to,  while  her  better  reafon  difap- 
proved  them  :  ihe  fhall  never  want  a  friend 
while  I  live,  but  I  never  more  defire  to  be- 
hold her ;  her  prefence  would  be  always 
painful  to  me,  and  a  glance  from  her  eye 
would  call  the  blufh  of  confeions  guilt  into 

my  cheek. 1  will  write  a  letter   to  her, 

which  ycu  may  deliver  when  I  am  gone, 
as  I  ihall  go  to  St.  liuftatia  the  day  after 
my  union  with  Julia,  who  will  accompany 
me." 

Belcour  pr-omifec!  to  fulfil  the  requeft  of 
his  friend,  though  nothing  was  farther  from 
liis  intentions,  than  the  leaft  defion  of  deli- 
vering  the  letter,  or  making  Charlotte  ac- 
quainted with  the  provifion  Montraville  had 
made  for  her  ;  he  was  bent  on  the  complete 
ruin  of  the  unhappy  girl,  and  fuppofed  by  re- 
ducing her  to  an  entire  dependancc  on  him, 


CHARLOTTE.         157 

to  bring  her  by  degrees  to  confent  to  gratify 
his  ungenerous  paiiion. 

The  evening  before  the  day  appointed  for 
the  nuptials  of  Montraville  and  Julia,  the 
former  retired  early  to  his  apartment :  and 
ruminating  on  the  pail  fcenes  of  his  life,  fuf- 
fered  the  keeneft  remorfe  inthe  remembrance 
of  Charlotte's  feduclion.  "Poor  girl,"  faid 
he,  "  I  will  at  leaft  write  and  bid  her  adieu  ; 
I  will  too  endeavor  to  awaken  that  love  of 
virtue  in  her  bofom  which  her  unfortunate 
attachment  to  me  hasextinguiflied."  Hetook 
up  the  pen  and  began  to  write,  but  words 
were  denied  him.  How  could  he  addrefs  the 
woman  whom  he  had  feduced,  and  whom, 
though  he  thought  unworthy  his  tendernefs, 
he  was  about  to  bid  adieu  forever  ?  How 
fhould  he  tell  her  that  he  was  going  to  ab- 
jure her,  to  enter  into  the  moft  indiffoluble 
ties  with  another,  and  that  he  could  not  even 
own  the  infant  which  fhe  bore  as  his  child  ? 
Several  letters  were  begun  and  cleftroyed  : 
at  length  he  completed  the  following  : 

To  Charlotte. 
"  Though  I  have  taken  up  my  pen  to  ad- 
drefs you,  my  poor  injured  girl,  I  feel  I  am 
inadequate  to  the  tafk  ;  yet,  however  painful 
the  endeavor,  I  could  not  refolve  upon  leaving 
you  forever  without  one  kind  line  to  bid  you 
adieu,  to  tell  you  how  my  heart  bleeds  at  the 
remembrance  of  what  you  was,  before  yen 
tol.  2.  o 


153         CHARLOT  T  E. 

faw  the  hatred  Montraville.  Even  now  ima*- 
gination  paints  the  fcene,  when,  torn  by  con- 
lending  paflions,  when,  flruggling  between 
love  and  duty,  you  fainted  in  my  arms,  and 
I  lifted  you  into  the  chaife  :  I  fee  the  agony 
of  your  mind,  when,  recovering,  you  found 
yourfelf  on  the  road  to  Portfmouth :  but  how, 
my  gentle  girl,  how  could  you,  whenfojuft- 
ly  imprefTed  with  the  value  of  virtue,  how 
could  you,  when  loving  as  I  thought  you 
loved  me,  yield  to  the  felicitation  of  Belcour? 

"  Oh  Charlotte,  confcience  tells  me  it  was 
I,  villain  that  I  am,  who  firft  taught  you  the 
allurements  of  guilty  pleafure  ;  it  was  I  who 
dragged  you  from  the  calm  repofe  which  in- 
nocence and  virtue  ever  enjoy  ;  and  can  I, 
dare  I  tell  you,  it  was  not  love  prompted  to 
the  horrid  deed?  No,  thou  dear  fallen  angel, 
believe  your  repentant  Montraville,  when  he 
tells  you,  the  man  who  truly  loves,  will  ne- 
ver betray  the  objecl:  of  his  affection.--* 
Adieu,  Charlotte:  could  you flill  find  charms 
in  a  life  of  unoffending  innocence,  return  to 
your  parents ;  you  fhall  never  want  the 
means  of  fupport  both  for  yourfelf  and  child. 
Oh !  gracious  heaven  !  may  that  child  be 
entirely  free  from  the  vices  of  its  father  and 
the  weaknefs  of  its  mother. 

**  To-morrow.... but  no,  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  to-morrow  will  produce  ;  Belcour  will 
inform  you  ;  he  alfo  has  calh  for  you,  which 


CHARLOTT  E.         159 

1  beg  you  will  afk  for  whenever  you  may 
want  it.  Once  more  adieu  :  believe  mev 
could  I  hear  you  was  returned  to  yourfriends, 
and  enjoying  that  tranquillity  of  whichlhave 
robbed  you,  I  lhould  be  as  completely  happy 
as  even  you,  in  your  fondeft  hours,  could 
wifh  me,  but  till  then  a  gloom  will  obfcure 
the  brighteft  profpe£ts  of 

MONTRAVILLE." 

After  he  had  fealed  this  letter  he  threw 
hiinfelf  on  the  bed,  and  enjoyed  a  few  hours 
repofe.  Early  in  the  morning  Belcour  tap- 
ped at  his  door  :  he  arofe  haftily,  and  pre- 
pared to  meet  his  Julia  at  the  altar. 

"  This  is  the  letter  to  Charlotte,"  laid  he, 
giving  it  to  Belcour  :  "  take  it  to  her  when 
we  are  gone  to  Euftatia  ;  and  I  conjure  you, 
my  dear  friend,  not  to  ufe  any  fophilaftic  ar- 
guments to  prevent  her  return  to  virtue  ;  but 
fhould  flie  incline  that  way,  encourrge  her 
in  the  tkought,  and  affift  her  to  put  her  do 


CHARLOTTE.         101 


CHAPTER    XXVII.- 


Pensive  she  mourn'd,  and  hung  her  languid  head*- 
Like  a  fair  lily  overcharged  with  deiv. 


harlotte  had  now  been  left  almoft  three 
months  a  prey  to  her  own  melancholy  reflec- 
tions....fad  companions  indeed  :  nor  did  any 
one  break  in  upon  her  folitude  but  Belcour, 
who  once  or  twice  called  to  enquire  after  her 
health,  and  tell  her  he  had  in  vain  endea- 
vored to  bring  Montraville  to  hear  reafon  : 
and  once,    but   only   once,    was    her  mind 
chearedby  the  receipt  of  an  affectionate  let- 
ter from  Mrs.  Beauchamp.       Often  had  (he 
wrote  to  her  perfidious  feducer,  and  with  the 
molt  perfuafive  eloquence  endeavored  to  con- 
vince him  of  her  innocence  ;   but  thefe  let- 
ters were  never  fuffered  to  reach  the  hands 
of  Montraville,  or  they  mint,   though  on  the 
very  eve    of  marriage,    have  prevented   his 
deferting  the  wretched  girl.        Real  anguifh 
of  heart  had  in  a  great  meafure  faded   her 
charms,  her  cheeks  were  pale  from-  want  of 
red,  and  her  eyes,   by  frequent,  indeed  al- 
moft continued  weeping,  were  funk  and  hea- 
vy.    Sometimes  a  gleam  of  hope  would  play 
o  2 


162         CHARLOTTE. 

about  her  heart  when  fhe  thought  of  her  pa~ 
rents...."  They  cannot  finely,"  fhe  would 
fay,  "refufeto  forgive  me  ;  or  fliould  they 
deny  their  pardon  to  me,  they  will  not  hate 
my  innocent  infant  on  account  of  its  mo- 
ther's errors."  How  often  did  the  poor 
mourner  wifh  for  the  condoling  prefence  of 
the  benevolent  Mrs.  Beauchamp.  "  If  fhe 
was  here,"  fhe  would  cry,  "  lhe  would  cer- 
tainly comfort  me,  and  footh  the  diftraclion 
of  my  fouL" 

She  was  fitting  one  afternoon,  wrapped  in 
fchefe  melancholy  reflections,  when  fhe  was 
interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Belcour;  great 
as  the  alteration  was  which  inceffant  fbrrovr 
had  made  on  her  perfon,  fhe  was  flill  intereil- 
ing,ftill  charming;  and  the  unhallowedflame, 
which  had  urged  Belcour  to  plant  diilention 
between  her  and  Montravillc,  ftill  raged  in 
his  bofom  ;  he  was  determined  if  poflible  to 
make  her  his  miftrefs  ;  nay,  he  had  even 
conceived  the  diabolical  feheme  of  taking 
her  to  New- York,  and  making  her  appear  in 
every  public  place  where  it  was  likely  fhe 
fhould  meet  Montpaville,  that  he  might  be  a 
witnefs  to  his  unmanly  triumph. 

When  he  entered  the  room  where  Charlotte 
was  fitting,  lie  affumed  the  look  of  tender, 
confolatory  friendfhip.  "And  how  does  my 
lovely  Charlotte  ?"  laid  he,  taking  her  hand  • 
''I  fear  you  are  not  fo  well  as  I  could  v."(li.' 


CHARLOTTE.         163 

"  I  am  not  well,  Mr.  Belcour,"  laid  fher 
"  very  far  from  it ;  but  the  pains  and  infir- 
mities of  the  body  I  could  eafily  bear,  nay, 
fubmit  to  them  with  patience,  were  they  not 
aggravated  by  the  mod  infupportable  anguiili 
of  my  mind," 

"  You  are  not  happy,  Charlotte,"  faid  he,, 
with  a  look  of  well-diffembled  forrow. 

"Alas  !"  replied  fhe  mournfully,  fhaking 
her  head,  "how  can  I  be  happy,  deferted  and 
forfaken  as  I  am,  without  a  friend  of  my  own 
fex  to  whom  I  can  unburthen  my  full  heart, 
nay,  my  fidelity  fafpecled  by  the  very  man 
for  whom  I  have  facrificed  every  thing  valu- 
able in  life,  for  whom  1  have  made  myfelf  a 
poor  defpifed  creature,  an  outcafl  from.focie- 
ty,  an  object  only  of  contempt  and  pity." 

"  You  think  too  meanly  of  yourfelf,  Mifs 
Temple  :  there  is  no  one  who  would  dare  to 
treat  you  with  contempt :  all  who  have  the 
pleafure  of  knowing  you  muft  admire  and 
efteeni.  You  are  lonely  here,  my  dear  girl ; 
give  me  leave  to  conduel  you  to  New- York, 
where  the  agreeable  fociety  of  fome  ladies, 
to  whom  I  will  introduce  you,  will  difoel 
there  fed  thoughts,  and  I  lhall  again  fee  re- 
turning chearfulnefs,  animate  thofe  lovely 
features." 

*'  Oh,  never!   never!"    cried  Charlotte, 


164        CHARLOTTE. 

emphatically  ;  "  the  virtuous  part  of  my  fex~ 
will  fcorn  me,  and  I  will  never  affociate  with 
infamy.  No,  Belcour,  here  let  me  hide  my 
fhame  and  forrow,  here  let  me  fpend  my  few 
remaining  days  in  obfcurity,  unknown  and 
unpitied  ;  here  let  me  die  unlamented,  and 
my  name  fink  to  oblivion."  Here  her  tears 
flopped  her  utterance.  Belcour  was  awed 
to  lilence  ;  he  dared  not  interrupt  her  ;  and 
after  a  moment's  paufe  fhe  proceeded...."  I 
once  had  conceived  the  thought  of  going  to 
New- York,  to  feek  out  the  ftill  dear,  though 
cruel,  ungenerous  Montraville,to  throw  my- 
felf  at  his  feet,  and  entreat  his  companion  ; 
heaven  knows,  not  for  myfelf;  if  I  am  no 
longer  beloved,  I  will  not  be  indebted  to  his 
pity  to  redrefs  my  injuries,  but  I  would  have 
knelt  and  entreated  him  not  to   forfake  my 

poor  unborn "     She  could  fay  no  more  ; 

a  crimfon  glow  rufhed  over  her  cheeks,  and 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  fhe  fobbed 
aloud. 

Something  like  humanity  was  awakened 
in  Belcour' s  breaft  by  this  pathetic  fpeech: 
he  arofe  and  walked  towards  the  window  ;•. 
but  the  felfifh  paffion  which  had  taken  pof- 
feffion  of  his  heart,  f°cn  ftifled- thefe  finer 
emotions  :  and  he  thought  if  Charlotte  was 
once  convinced  fhe  had  no  longer  any  depen- 
dance  on  Mbntraville;  (lie  would  more  rcadi- 
jy  throv/ herfelf  on  his  protection.  Deter, 
mined,  therefore,  to   inform  her  of  all  that 


CHARLOTTE.         165 

liad  happened,  he  again  refumed  his  feat  ; 
and  finding  (lie  began  to  be  more  comnofed, 
enquired  if  fhe  had  ever  heard  from  M  ontra- 
ville  fince  the  unfortunate  rencontre  in  her 
bed  chamber. 

"  Ah  no,"  faid  fhe.  "  I  fear  I  fliall  never 
hear  from  him  again." 

"I  am  greatly  of  your  opinion,"  faid 
Belcour,  "  for  he  has  been  for  fome  time 
pall  greatly  attached " 

At  the  word  "attached"  a  death-like  pal'e- 
nefs  overfpread  the  countenance  of  Charlotte, 
but  fiie  applied  to  fome  hartfhorn  which 
Hood  befide  her,  and  Belcour  proceeded. 

"  He  has  been  for  fome  time  pail  greatly 
attached  to  one  Mifs  Franklin,  a  ■pleafing 
lively  girl,  with  a  large  fortune." 

"  She  may  be  richer,  may  be  handfomer," 
cried  Charlotte,  "  but  cannot  love  him  fo 
well.  O  !  may  (lie  beware  of  his  art,  and 
not  trull  him  too  far,  as  I  have  done." 

"  He  addreffes  her  publicly,"  faid  he, 
"  and  it  was  rumored  they  were  to  be  mar- 
ried before  he  failed  for  Euftati?,  whither 
his  company  is  ordered." 

"  Belcour,"    faid   Charlotte,  feizing   his 


166         CHARLOTTE. 

hand,  and  gazing  at  him  earneftly,  while  her 
pale  lips  trembled  with  convulfive  agony. 
"  tell  me,  and  tell  me  truly,  I  befeech  you, 
do  you  think  he  can  be  fuch  a  villain  as  to 
marry  another  woman,  and  leave  me  to  die 
with  want  and  mifery  in  a  ftrange  land  ?  tell 
me  what  you  think  ;  I  can  bear  it  very  well  ; 
I  will  not  fnrir.k  from  this  her„vicft  ftroke  of 
fate  ;  I  have  deferved  my  afflictions,  and  I 
Trill  endeavor  to  bear  them  as  I  ought." 

"  I  fear,"  faid  Belcour,  "  he  can  be  that 
villain." 

"  Perhaps,"  cried  fne,  eagerly  interrupt- 
ing him,  u  perhaps  he  is  married  already  : 
come,  let  me  know  the  worft,"  continued 
fhe,  with  an  affecled  look  of  compofure  : 
"  you  need  not  be  afraid,  I  (hall  not  fend  the- 
fortunate  lady  a  bowl  of  poifon." 

"  Well  then,  my  dear  girl,"  faid  he,  de- 
ceived by  her  appearance,  "  they  were  mar- 
ried on  Thurfday,  and  yefterday  morning 
they  failed  for  Euftatia." 

*'  Married.... gone.... fay  you  ?"  cried  fhe 
in  adiftracted  accent,  "  what  without  a  laft 
farewel,  without  one  thought  on  my  unhap- 
py fituation  !  Oh  Montraville,  may  God  for- 
give your  perfidy."  She  fhrieked,  and  Bel- 
cour fprang  forward  juft  in  time  to  prevent 
her  falling  to  the  floor.- 


CHARLOTTE.         167 

Alarming  faintings  now  fucceeded  each 
other,  and  lhe  was  conveyed  to  her  bed, 
from  whence  fhe  earneftly  prayed  lhe  might 
never  more  arife.  Belcour  itaid  with  her  that 
night,  and  in  the  morning  found  her  in  a 
high  fever.  The  fits  fhe  had  been  feized  with 
had  greatly  terrified  him  ;  and  confined  as 
fhe  now  was  to  a  bed  of  ficknefs,  fhe  was  no 
longer  an  obje£t  of  defire  :  it  is  true  for  fe- 
veral  days  he  went  conftantly  to  fee  her,  but 
her  pale,  emaciated  appearance  difgufted 
him  :  his  vifits  became  lefs  frequent ;  he 
forgot  the  folemn  charge  given  him  by  Mon- 
traville  ;  he  even  forgot  the  money  entrufled 
to  his  care  ;  and,  the  burning  blufh  of  indig- 
nation and  fhame  tinges  my  cheek  while  I 
write  it,  this  difgrace  to  humanity  and  man- 
hood at  length  forgot  even  the  injured  Char- 
lotte ;  and,  attracted  by  the  blooming  health 
of  a  farmer's  daughter,  whom  he  had  feen 
in  his  frequent  excurfions  to  the  country,  he 
left  the  unhappy  girl  to  fink  unnoticed  to  the 
grave,  a  prey  to  ficknefs,  grief  and  penury  ; 
while  he,  having  triumphed  over  the  virtue 
of  the  artlefs  cottager,  riotted  in  all  the  in- 
temperance of  luxury  and  lawlefs  pleafure. 


CHARLOTTE.         169 

C  H  -4P  TE  R      XXVIII. 

A  TRIFLING  RETROSPECT. 

less  my  heart,"  cries  my  young,  vola- 
tile reader,  "  I  shall  never  have  patience  to 
get  through  thefe  volumes  ;  there  are  fo  ma- 
ny ahs  !  and  ohs  !  fo  much  fainting,  tears, 
and  diftrefs,  I  am  lick  to  death  of  the  fub- 
jecl."  My  dear,  chearful,  innocent  girl,  for 
innocent  I  will  fuppofe  you  to  be,  or  you 
would  acutely  feel  the  woes  of  Chatlotte, 
did  confcience  fay,  thus  might  have  it  been 
with  me,  had  not  Providence  interpofed  to 
match  me  from  destruction  :  therefore,  my 
lively,  innocent  girl,  I  muft  requeft  your  pa- 
tience :  1  am  writing  a  tale  of  truth  :  I  mean 
to  write  it  to  the  heart  :  but  if  perchance  the 
heart  is  rendered  impenetrable  by  unbound- 
ed profperity,  or  a  continuance  in  vice,  I  ex- 1 
pect  not  my  tale  to  pleafe,  nay,  I  even  expect 
it  will  be  thrown  by  with  difguft.  But  foftly, 
gentle  fair  one  ;  I  pray  you  throw  it  not  afide 
till  you  have  perufed  the  whole  ;  mayhap  you 
may  find  fomething  therein  to  repay  you  for 
the  trouble.  Methinks  I  fee  a  farcailic  fmile 
lit  on  your  countenance....."  And  what," 
cry  you,  "  does  the  conceited  author  fup- 
pofe we  can  glean  from  thefe  pages,  if  Char- 
lotte is  held  up  as  an  object  of  terror,  to  pre- 
vent us  from  falling  into  guilty  errors  ?  does 
iiot  La  Rue  triumph   in  her  ihame,  and  by 

vol.  2.  7%  p 


170        CHARLOTTE. 

adding  art  to  guilt,  obtain  the  affection  of  a 
worthy  man,  and  rife  to  a  ftation  where  fhe 
is  beheld  with  refpecl,  and  chearfully  receiv- 
ed into  all  companies.  What  then  is  the  mo- 
ral you  would  inculcate  1  Would  you  wifh 
lis  to  think  that  a  deviation  from  virtue,  if 
covered  by  art  and  hypocrify,  is  not  an  ob- 
ject of  deteftation,  but  on  the  contrary  fhall 
raife  us  to  fame  and  honor  ?  while  the  hap- 
lefs  girl  who  falls  a  vi6tim  to  her  too  great 
fenfibility,  fhall  be  loaded  with  ignominy  and 
ill  me  ?"  No,  my  fair  querift,  I  mean  no 
fuch  thing.  Remember  the  endeavors  of  the 
wicked  are  often  fuffered  to  profper,  that  in 
the  end  their  fall  may  be  attended  with  more 
bitternefs  of  heart  ;  while  the  cup  of  afflic- 
tion is  poured  out  for  wife  and  falutary  ends, 
and  they  who  are  compelled  to  drain  it  even 
to  the  bitter  dregs,  often  find  comfort  at  the 
foottom  ;  the  tear  of  penitence  blots  their  of- 
fences from  the  book  of  fate,  and  they  rife 
from  the  heavy,  painful  trial,  purified  and  fit 
for  a  manfion  in  the  kingdom  of  eternity. 

Yes,  my  young  friends,  the  tear  of  com- 
panion fhall  fall  for  the  fate  of  Charlotte, 
while  the  name  of  La  Rue  fhall  be  deteflcd 
and  defpifed.  For  Charlotte,  the  foul  melts 
with  fympathy  ;  for  La  Flue,  it  feels  nothing 
but  horror  and  contempt,  Bnt  perhaps  your 
gay  hearts  would  rather  foljpw  the  fortunate- 
Mrs.  Crayton  through  the  fcenes  of  pleafuee 
and  diihpation,  in  which  fhe  was  engaged, 
than  liften  to  the  complaints  and  miferies  •(' 


CHARLOTTE.         171 

Charlotte.  I  will  for  once  oblige  you  ;  I 
will  for  once  follow  her  to  midnight  revels, 
balls  and  fcenes  of  gaiety,  for  in  fuch  was 
fhe  conftantly  engaged. 

I  have  faid  her  perfon  was  lovely  ;  let  us 
add  that  fhe  was  furrounded  by  fplendor  and 
affluence,  and  he  mull  know  but  little  of  the 
world  who  can  wonder,  (however  faulty  fuch 
a  woman's  conducl,)  at  her  being  followed 
by  the  men,  and  her  company  courted  by  the 
women  :  in  fhort,  Mrs.  Crayton  was  the  uni- 
verfal  favorite  ;  Ihe  fet  the  fafhions,  fhe  was 
toailed  by  the  gentlemen,  and  copied  by  the 
ladies. 

Colonel  Crayton  was  a  domeftic  man.... 
Could  he  be  happy  with  fuch  a  woman  ?  im- 
poiTible  !  Remonilrance  was  vain  :  he  might 
as  well  have  preached  to  the  winds,  as  endea- 
vor to  perfuade  her  from  any  action,  howe- 
ver ridiculous,  on  which  fhe  had  fet  her 
mind  :  in  fhort,  after  a  little  ineffectual  drug- 
gie, he  gave  up  the  attempt,  and  left  her  to 
follow  the  bent  of  her  own  inclinations ; 
what  thofe  were,  I  think  the  reader  mull  have 
it  en  enough  of  her  character  to  form  a  mil: 
idea.  Among  the  number  who  paid  their 
devotions  at  her  fhrine,  fhe  lingled  out  one,  a 
young  Enfign  of  mean  birth,  indifferent  edu- 
cation, and' weak  intellects.  How  fuch  a  man 
came  into  the  army,  we  hardly  can  account 
for,  and  how  he  afterwards  rofe  to  polls  of 
honor  is  likewife  ftrange  and  wonderful. 
But  fortune  is  blind,  and  fo  are  thofe  too  fre- 


172         CHARLOTTE. 

quently  who  have  the  power  of  difpenfmg 
her  favors  :  elfe  why  do  we  fee  fools  and 
knaves  at  the  very  top  of  the  wheel,  while 
patient  merit  finks  to  the  extreme  of  the  op- 
pofite  abyis.  But  we  may  form  a  thoufand 
conjectures  on  this  fubjeel:,  and  yet  never  hit 
on  the  right.  Let  us  therefore  endeavor  to 
deferve  her  fmiles,  and  whether  we  fucceed 
or  not,  we  fhall  feel  more  innate  fatisfa£lion, 
than  thoufands  of  thofe  who  balk  in  the  fun- 
fhine  of  her  favor  unworthily.  But  to  return 
to  Mrs.  Crayton  :  this  young  man,  whom  I 
fhall  diflinguiih  by  the  name  of  Corydon, 
was  the  reigning  favorite  of  her  heart.  He 
efcorted  her  to  the  play,  danced  with  her  at 
every  ball,  and  when  indifpofition  prevented 
her  going  out,  it  was  he  alone  who  was  per- 
mitted to  chear  the  gloomy  folitude  to  which 
fhe  was  obliged  to  confine  herfelf.  Did  fhe 
ever  think  cf  poor  Charlotte  ?---if  fhe  did, 
my  dear  Mifs,  it  was  only  to  laugh  at  the  poor 
girl's  want  of  fpirit  in  conferring  to  be  niGp- 
cd  up  in  the  country,  while  Montraville  was 
]  ing  all  the  pleasures  of  a  gay,  diinpated 
....  When  The  heard  cf  his  marriage,  fhe 
fmilnig  faicl,  fo  there's  an  end  of  Madam 
Charlotte's  hopes.  I  wonder  who  will  take 
her  now,  or  what  will  become  of  the  little 
aafe&ed  prijde  ? 

But  as  you  have  led  to  the  fubjec"t.,  I  think 
■  -c  may  as  well  return  to  the  diibeffed  Char- 
U  Ue,  and  not  like  the  unfeeling  Mrs.  Crav- 
tQBj  i.lmt  our  hearts  to  the  call  of  humanity. 


CHARLOTTE,         173- 

CHAPTER      XXIX. 

WE  GO  FORWARD  AGAIN. 

he  ftrength  of  Charlotte's  conftitution 
combated  againft  her  diforder,  and  fhe  began 
ilowly  to  recover,  though  1  lie  ftill  laboured 
under  a  violent  depreiiion  of  fpirits  :  how 
muft  that  deprefiion  be  encreafed,  when,  up- 
on examining:  her  little  Itore,  fhe  found  her- 
felf  reduced  to  one  foiitary  guinea,  and  that 
during  her  illnefs,  the  attendance  of  an  apo- 
thecary and  nurfe,  together  with  many  other 
unavoidable  expences,  had  involved  her  in 
debt,  from  which  (lie  faw  no  method  of  ex- 
tricating herfelf.  As  to  the  faint  hope  which 
file  Had  entertained  of  hearing  from  and  be- 
ing  relieved  by  her  parents  ;  it  now- entirely 
foribok  her,  for  it  was  above  four  months 
iince  her  letter  was  difpatched,  and  fhe  had- 
received  no  anfwer  :  fhe  therefore  imagined 
tharhtr  conduel  had  either  entirely  alienated 
their  affection  from  her.,  or  broken  their 
hearts,  and  Hie  muft  never  more  Hope  to  re- 
ceive their  bleiTmg. 

Never  did  any  human  being  wifh  for  deatftr 

witk  greater  fervency  or  with  jufter   caufe  g 

yet  ihe  had  too  juft  a  fenfe  of  the  duties  of 

the  cb.viH.mn  religion,  to  attempt  to  put  a 

e  2 


174         CHARLOTt  E, 

period  to  her  own  exiftence.  "  I  have  but 
to  be  patient  a  little  longer,"  fhe  would  cry. 
"and  nature,  fatigued  and  fainting,  will 
throw  off  this  heavy  load  of  mortality,  and  I 
fhall  be  releafed  from  all  my  fufferings." 

It  was  one  cold  flormy  day  in  the  latter  end 
of  December,  as  Charlotte  fat  by  a  handful 
of  fire,  the  low  Hate  of  her  finances  not  al- 
lowing her  to  replenifh  her  Hock  of  fuel, 
and  prudence  teaching  her  to  be  careful  of 
what  fhe  had,  when  fhe  was  furprifed  by  the 
entrance  of  a  farmer's  wife,  who,  without 
much  ceremony,  feated  herfelf,  and  began 
this  curious  harangue. 

u  I'm  come  to  fee  if  as  how  you  can  pay 
your  rent,  becaufe  as  how  we  hear  Captain 
Montable  is  gone  away,  and  it's  fifty  to  one 
if  he  b'ant  killed  afore  he  comes  back  again  ; 
an  then,  Mifs,  or  Ma'am,  or  whatever  you 
may  be,  as  1  was  faying  to  my  hufband,  where 
are  we  to  look  for  our  money." 

This  was  a  itroke  altogether  unexpected, 
by  Charlotte  ;  ihe  knewfo  little  of  the  ways 
of  the  world,  that  fhe  had  never  bellowed  a 
thought  on  the  payment  of  the  rent  of  the 
lioufe ;  (he  knew  indeed  that  fhe  owed  a  good 
deal,  but  this  was  never  reckoned  among- 
tlie  others ;  fhe  was  thunder- itfuck  ;  fire 
hardly  knew  what  anfwer  to  make,  yet  it  was 
abfoiutely  neceffary  that  ftie  fhould  fay  fome- 


CHARLOTTE.         175 

tiling  ;  and  judging  of  the  gentlenefs  of  eve- 
ry female  difpofition  by  her  own,  {he  thought 
the  befl  way  to  intereil  the  woman  in  her  fa- 
vor, would  be  to  tell  her  candidly  to  what  a 
iituation  flic  was  reduced,  and  how  little  pro- 
bability there  was  of  her  ever  paying  any 
bodv. 

Alas  poor  Charlotte,  how/^onSned  was 
her  knowledge  of  human  nature, or  fhe  Would 
have  been  convinced  that  the  only  way  to 
enfure  the  friendfhip  and  afliftance  of  your 
furro  raiding  acquaintance,  is  to  convince 
them  you  do  not  require  it,  for  when  once 
the  petrifying  afpeei  of  difteefs  and  penmy 
appear,  whofe  qualities,  like  Mcdufa's  head, 
can  change  to  ilone  all  that  look  upon  it  ; 
when  once  this  Gorgon  claims  acquaintance 
with  us,  the  phantom  of  friendfhip,  that  be- 
fore courted  our  notice,  will  vaniili  into  un- 
fubftantial  air,  and  the  whole  world  before  us 
appear  a  barren  wafte.  Pardon  me,  ye  dear 
fpirits  of  benevolence,  whofe  benign  fmiles 
and  chearfui- giving  hands  have  ftrewed  fweet 
flowers  on  man}/  a  thorny  path  through  which 
my  wayward  fate  forced  me  to  pafs  ;  think 
not,  that  in  condemning  the  unfeeling  tex- 
ture of  the  human  heart,  I  forget  the  fpring 
from  whence  flow  all  the  comforts  I  enjoy  i 
ofi  no  !  I  look  up  to  you  as  to  bright  con- 
f!  illations,  gathering  newfplendors  from  the' 
forroundihg  darknefs  :  but  ah  !  while  I  adore 
the  benignant  rays  that  cheared  and  illumm- 


176        CHARLOTTE. 

ed  my  heart,  I  mourn   that  their  influence 
can  not  extei 
of  affliction. 


can  not  extend  to  aii  the  fons  and  daughters 


"  Indeed,  Madam,"  faid  poor  Charlotte  in 
a  tremulous  accent,  "  I  am  at  a  lofs  what  to 
do.  Montravilie  placed  me  here,  and  pro- 
mifed  to  defray  all  my  expences  ;  but  he  has 
forgotten  his  promife,  he  has  forfaken  me, 
and  I  -have  no  friend  who  has  either  power 
or  will  to  relieve  me.  Let  me  hope,  as  you 
fee  my  unhappy  fituation,  your  Charity. '* 

"  Charity,"  cried  the  woman,  impatiently 
interrupting  her,  u  charity,  indeed  :  why, 
Miilrcis,  charity  begins  at  home,  and  I  have 
feven  children  at  home,  honest.,  lawful  chil- 
dren ;  and  it  is  my  duty  to  keep  them ;  and 
do  you  think  I  fhali  give  away  my  property 
to  a  nafty,  impudent  hufley,  to  maintain  her 
and  her  baflard  :  as  I  was  faying  to  my  huf- 
band  the  other  day,  what  will  this  world  come 
to  ?  honeft  women  are  nothing  now-a-days, 
while  the  harlotings  are  fet  up  for  fine  ladies, 
and  look  upon  us  no  more  nor  the  dirt  they 
walk  upon  ;  but  let  me  tell  you,  my  fine  fpo~ 
ken  Ma'am,  I  muft  have  my  money  ;  fo  fee- 
ing as  how  you  can't  pay  it,  why  you  muft 
troop,  and  leave  all  your  line  gimcracks  and 
fal  de  rails  behind  you.  I  don't  aik  for  no 
more  nor  my  right,  and  nobody  Chall  dart  for 
to  go  for  to  hinder  me  of  it.7' 


CHARLOTTE.         177 

"  Oh  heavens  !"  cried  Charlotte,  clafping 
her  hands,  "  what  will  become  of  me  V* 

"  Come  on  ye  !"  retorted  the  unfeeling 
wretch  :  "  why  go  to  the  barracks  and  work 
for  a  morfel  of  bread  ;  walli  and  mend  the 
foldiers  clothes,  and  cook  their  victuals,  and 
not  expect  to  live  in  idlenefs  on  honeft  peo- 
ple's means.  Oh  I  wifh  I  could  fee  the  day 
when  all  fuch  cattle  were  obliged  to  work 
hard  and  eat  little  :  it's  only  what  they  de- 
fer ve." 

"  Father  of  mercy,"  cried  Charlotte,  "I 
acknowledge  thy  correction  juft  :  but  pre- 
pare me,  I  befeech  thee,  for  the  portion  of 
mifery  thou  may'lipleafe  to  lay  before  me." 

"  Well,"  faid  the  woman,  "  I  fliall  go  and 
tell  my  hulband  as  how  you  can't  pay  ;  and 
fo  d'ye  fee,  Ma'am,  get  ready  to  be  packing 
away  this  very  night,  for  you  fhould  not  Hay 
another  night  in  this  houfe,  though  I  was 
fure  you  would  lay  in  the  fcreet." 

Charlotte  bowed  her  head  in  filence  ;  but 
the  anguifh  of  her  heart  was  too  great  to  per- 
mit her  to  articulate  a  iingle  word. 


CHARLOTTE.         179 


C  H  A  P  T  E  R       XXX. 


And  what  is  friendfhip  but  a  name, 
A  charm  that  lulls  to  fleep — 

A  Jliade  that  follows  wealth  and  fame, 
,Buc  leaves  the  wretch  to  weep  ? 


VV  hen  Charlotte  was  left  to  herfelf,  fhe 
began  to  think  what  courfe  lhe  mull  take,  or 
to  whom  ihe  could  apply,  to  prevent  her  pe- 
rilling for  want,  of  perhaps  that  very  night 
falling  a  victim  to  the  inclemency  of  the  fea- 
fon.  After  many  perplexed  thoughts,  fne  at 
bit  determined  to  fet  out  for  New -York,  and 
enquire  out  Mrs.  Crayton,  from  whom  fhe 
had  no  doubt  but  fhe  iliould  obtain  immedi- 
ate relief,  as  foon  as  her  diflrefs  was  made 
known  ;  fhe  had  no  fooner  formed  this  refo- 
lution,  than  (lie  refolved  immediately  to  put 
it  in  execution  :  fhe  therefore  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing little  billet  to  Mrs.  Crayton,  think- 
ing if  lhe  faould  have  company  with  her,  it 
would  be  better  to  fend  it  in  than  tp  requeft 
to-  fee  her. 


180         CHARLOTTE. 

To  Mrs.  Craytcn. 

"  Madam, 

"  When  we  left  our  native  land,  that  dear 
happy  land  which  now  contains  all  that  is 
dear  to  the  wretched  Charlotte,  our  profpecte 
were  the  fame  ;  we  both,  pardon  me,  Ma- 
dam, if  I  fay,  we  both  too  eafily  followed 
the  impulfe  of  our  treacherous  hearts,  and 
trufledour  happinefs  on  a  tempefluous  ocean, 
where  mine  has  been  wrecked  and  loft  for- 
ever ;  you  have  been  more  fortunate.... you 
are  united  to  a  man  of  honor  and  humanity, 
united  by  the  moil  facred  ties,  relpeclcd,  el- 
teemed,  admired,  and  furrouilded  by  innu- 
merable blefiings,of  which  I  am  bereaved 

enjoying  thofe  pleafures  which  have  fled  my 
bofom,  never  to  return  ;  alas  !  forrow  and 
deep  regret  have  taken  their  place.  Behold 
me,  Madam,  a  poor  forfaken  wanderer,  who 
has  not  were  to  lay  her  weary  head;  where- 
with to  fupply  the  wants  of  nature,  or  to 
fhield  her  from  the  inclemency  of  the  wea- 
ther. To  you  I  fue,  to  you  I  look  for  pity 
and  relief.  I  afk  not  to  be  received  as  an 
intimate  or  an  equal ;  only  for  charity's  fweet 
lake  receive  me  into  your  hofpitahle  man- 
iion,  allot  me  the  meaneil  apartment  in  it, 
and  let  me  breathe  out  my  foul  in  prayers 
for  your  happinefs  ;  I  cannot,  I  feel  I  cannot 
loiig  bear  up  under  the  accumulated  woes 
that  pour  in  upon  me  ;  but  oh  !  my  dear  Ma- 
dam, for  the  love  of  heaven  fuflfer  me  not  to 


CHARLOTTE.         181 

t  expire  in  the  flreet ;  and  when  I  am  at  peace, 
as  foon  I  fhall  be,  extend  your  companion 
to  my  helplefs  offspring,  fliould  it  pleafe  hea- 
ven that  it  fhould  furvive  its  unhappy  mo- 
ther.  A  gleam  of  joy  breaks  in  on  my  be- 
nighted foul,  while  I  reflect  that  you  cannot, 
will  not,  refufe  your  protection  to  the  heart- 
broken 

CHARLOTTE." 

When  Charlotte  had  finifhed  this  letter, 
late  as  it  was  in  the  afternoon,  and  though 
the  mow  began  to  fall  very  fail,  fhe  tied  up  a 
few  necefiaries  which  fhe  had  prepared  a- 
gainft  her  expe£ted  confinement ;  and,  terri- 
fied left  fhe  fhould  be  again  expofed  to  the 
ififults  of  her  barbarous  landlady,  more  dread- 
ful to  her  wounded  fpirit  than  either  itorm  or 
darknefs,  fhe  fet  forward  for  New- York. 

It  may  be  afked  by  thofe  who,  in  a  work 
of  this  kind,  love  to  cavil  at  every  trifling 
cmifiion,  whether  Charlotte  did  not  pofTefs 
any  valuable  of  which  fhe  could  have  dif- 
pofed,and  by  that  means  have  fupported  her- 
felf  till  Mrs.  Eeauchamp's  return,  when 
fhe  would  have  been  ce;  cain  of  receiving 
every  tender  attention  >vdnch  compafTion  and 
friendfiiip  co\ild  di£hte  ;  but  let  me  entreat 
thefe  wife  penetrating  gentlemen  to  refleel, 
that  when  Charlocte  left  England,  it  was  in 
fuch  hafte  that  there  was  no  time  to  purchafe 
•any  thing  mare  than  what  was  wanted  for 
vol.  c2  o^ 


182        CHARLOTTE. 

immediate  ufe  on  the  voyage  ;  and  after  her 
arrival  at  New-York,  Montraville's  affeclion 
foon  began  todecline,fo  that  her  whole  ward- 
robe confiiled  only  of  necefTaries  ;  and  as  to 
the  baubles,  with  which  fond  lovers  often 
load  their  miftrefles,  fhe  poffeffed  not  one, 
except  a  plain  gold  locket  of  fmall  value, 
which  contained  a  lock  of  her  mother's  hair, 
and  which  the  greateft  extremity  of  want 
could  not  have  forced  her  to  part  with. 

I  hope,  Sir,  your  prejudices  are  nowr  re- 
moved in  regard  to  the  probability  of  my 
{lory  ?  Oh  they  are.  Well  then,  with  your 
leave,  I  will  proceed. 

The  diflance  from  the  houfe  which  our 
fuffering  heroine  occupied,  to  New- York, 
was  not  very  great ;  yet  the  fnow  fell  fo  fail, 
and  the  cold  was  fo  intenfe,  that  being  una- 
ble from  her  fituation  to  walk  quick,  ihe 
found  herfelf  almofl  linking  with  cold  and 
fatigue  before  fhe  reached  the  town  ;  her 
garments,  which  were  merely  fuitable  to  the 
iiimmer  feafon,  being  an  undrefs  robe  of 
plain  white  muflin,  were  wet  through  ;  and 
a  thin  black  cloak  and  bonnet,  very  impro- 
per habiliments  for  firch  a  climate,  but  poor- 
ly defended  her  from  the  cold.  In  this  fitu- 
ation (lie  reached  the  city,  and  enquired  of  a 
footfoldier  whom  ihe  met,  t\te  way  to  Colo- 
jiel  Crayton's. 


C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  Et         185 

"  Blefs  you,  my  fweet  lady,"  faid  the  ioxj 
dier,  with  a  voice  and  look  of  companion, 
" 1  will  fhow  you  the  way  with  all  my  heart; 
but  if  you  are  going  to  make  a  petition  to 
Madam  Crayton,  it  is  all  to  no  purpofe  I  af- 
fure  you  :  if  you  pleafe,  I  will  condudl  you 
to  Mr.  Franklin's  ;  though  Mils  Julia  is 
married  and  gone  now,  yet  the  old  gentle- 
man is  very  good. " 

"  Julia  Franklin,"  faid  Charlotte  :  "  is 
fhe  not  married  to  Montraville  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  foldier,  "  and  may- 
God  blefs  them ;  for  a  better  officer  never 
lived,  he  is  fo  good  to  us  all ;  and  as  to  Mift 
Julia,  all  the  poor  folks  almoft  worshipped 
her." 

"  Gracious  heaven,"  cried  Charlotte,  "is 
Montraville  then  unjnfl  to  none  but  me  ?" 

The  foldier  now  fhowed  her  Colonel  Cray- 
ton's  door,  and  with  a  beating  heart  flic 
knocked  for  admifiion. 


182         C  F 
immed'" 


CHARLOTTE.         185 


f  U  A  P  T  E  R      XXXI. 


SUBJECT  CONTINUED. 

hen  the  door  was  opened,  Charlotte  in 
a  voice  rendered  fcarcely  articulate,  through 
cold  and  the  extreme  agitation  of  her  mind, 
demanded  whether  Mrs.  Cray  ton  was  at 
home.  The  fervant  hefitated  :  he  knew  that 
his  lady  was  engaged  at  a  game  of  picquet 
with  her  dear  Corydon,  nor  could  he  think 
!he  would  like  to  be  difturbed  by  a  perfon 
whofe  appearance  fpoke  her  of  fo  little  con- 
iequence  as  Charlotte  ;  yet  there  was  fome- 
thing  in  her  countenance  that  rather  in tere fl- 
ed him  in  her  favor,  and  he  faid  his  lady  was 
engaged  ;  but  if  fhe  had  any  particular  mef- 
fage  he  would  deliver  it. 

"  Take  up  this  letter,"  faid  Charlotte  ; 
"  tell  her  the  unhappy  writer  of  it  waits  in 
her  hall  for  an  anfwer." 

The  tremulous  accent,  the  tearful  eye,  muft 
have  moved  any  heart  not  compofed  of  ada- 
mant. The  man  took  the  letter  from  the  poor 
fuppliant,  and  haftily  afcendcd  the  Itair  caic 

"  A  letter,  Madam,"  faid  he,prefentin^  it  tu 
hislaly  :  an  immediate  anfwer  is  required,'* 
9.2 


186         C  HARLOT  T  E; 

Mrs.    Cray  ton  glanced  her  eye  cafelefel  f ; 

over  the  contents,      "  What  fluff  is  this  ?" 

cried  fhe  haughtily  ;  "  have  I  hot  told  you  a 

thoufand  times  that- 1  would  riot  be  plagued 

•  i  i  • 

with  beggars,  and  petitions  from  people  one 

knows  nothing  about  ?  Go  tell  the  woman  I 

can't  do  any  thing  in  it.    I'm  forry,  but  one 

can't  relieve  every  body." 

The  fervant  bowed,  and  heavily  returned. 
with  this  chilling  menage  to  Charlotte. 

"  Surely,"  faid  fhe,  Mrs.  Crayton  has  not 
read  my  letter.  Go,  my  good  friend,  pray  go 
back  to  her  ;  tell  her  it  is  Charlotte  Temple 
who  re  quells  beneath  her  hcfpitable  roof  to 
find  flicker  from  the  inclemency  ofthefeafon." 

'.*  Prithee,  don't  plague  me,  man,"  cried 
Mrs.  Crayton  impatiently,  as  the  fervant  ad- 
vanced fomething  in  behalf  of  the  unhappy 
girl. — i.\  I  tell  you  I  don't  know  her." 

"  Not  know  me,"  cried  Charlotte,  ruining 
into  the  room,-  (for  fhe  had  followed  the  man 
up  flairs)  "  not  know  nie,  not  remember  the 
ruined  Charlotte  Temple,  who,  but  for  you,' 
perhaps  might  flill  have  been  innocent,  flill 
have  been  happy  !  Oh,  La  Rue,  this  is  beyond 
every  thing  I  could  have  believed  poflible." 

."  Upon  my  honor,  Mifs,"  replied  the  ua- 
feeling  woman   with,  the  utmoft  effrontery. 


CTH  A  RL  O  T'T  e.        isr 

**this  is  a  moll  unaccountable  addrefs  :  it  is? 
beyond  my ■  comprehend  on.  John,"  conti- 
nued fhe,  turning  to  the  fervant,  "  the  young 
woman  is  certainly  out  of  her  fenfes  :  do  pray 
take  her  away,  fiie  terrifies  me  to  death." 

"  Oh  God,"  cried  Charlotte,  clafping  her 
hands  in  an  agony,  this  is  too  much  ;  what 
will  become  of- me  ?  but  I  will  not  leave  you^ 
they  fhall  not  tear  me  from  you  ;  here  on  my 
knees  I  conjure  you  to  fave  me  from  perffh- 
irig  in  the  ftreets  :  if  you  really  have  forgotten 
me,  oh  for  charity's  iweet  lake  this  night  le<: 
me  be  flickered  from- the  .winter's  piercing 
cold," 

The  kneeling  figure  of  Charlotte  in  her 
affecting  fituation  might  have  movedthe  heart 
of  a  ftoic  to  compaffion  :  but  Mrs.  Crayton 
remained  inflexible.  In  vain  did  Charlotte 
recount  the  time  they  had  known  each  other 
at  Chichefter,  in  vain  mention  their  being  in* 
the  fame  lliip,  in  vain  were  the  names  of 
Montraville  and  Belcour  mentioned.  Mrs. 
Crayton  could  only  fay  (he  was  forry  for  her 
imnrudence,  but  could  not  think  of  having? 
rier  own  reputation  endangered  by  encourag- 
ing a  woman  of  that  kind  in  her  own  houfe  ; 
befides  fhe  did  not  know  what  trouble  and 
expenfe  fhe  might  bring  upon  her  liufband 
by  giving  fhelter  to  a  woman  in  her  fituation.,  . 

"  I  can  at  leaft  die  here,"  laid  Chariot  e, 
*'•  Ifeel  I  cannot  long  farvive  this    dreadful  ' 
»enili£t.    Father  of  mercy,  here  let  me.  fini;;,. 


188         CHARLOTTE. 

my  exiftence."  Her  agonizing  fenfations 
overpowered  her,  and  fhe  fell  fenfelefs  on  the 
floor. 

"  Take  her  away,"  faid  Mrs.  Crayton, 
"  fhe  will  really  frighten  me  into  hyfterics  j 
take  her  away,  I  fay,  thisinftant." 

41  And  where  muft  I  take  the  poor  crea- 
ture ?"  faid  the  fervant  with  a  voice  and  look 
of  companion. 

"  Any  where,"  cried  fhe  haftily,  "  only 
don't  let  me  ever  fee  her  again.  I  declare  fhe 
has  flurried  me  fo,  I  fhan't  be  myfelf  again 
this  fortnight." 

John,  aflifted  by  his  fellow-fervant,  raifed 
and  carried  her  down  flairs.  "  Poor  foul," 
faid  he,  "  you  fhall  not  lie  in  the  flreet  this 
night.  I  have  a  bed  and  a  poor  little  hovel, 
where  my  wife  and  her  little  ones  reft  them  ; 
but  they  fhall  watch  to-night,  and  you  fhall 
be  fheltered  from  danger."  They  placed 
her  in  a  chair  ;  and  the  benevolent  man,  afliil- 
ed  by  one  of  his  comrades,  carried  her  to  the 
place  where  his  wife  and  children  lived.  A 
furgeon  was  fent  for  :  he  bled  her  ;  fhe  gave 
figns  of  returning  life  ;  and  before  the  dawn, 
gave  birth  to  a  female  infant,  After  this 
event  fhe  lay  for  fome  hours  in  a  kind  of  flu- 
por ;  and  if  at  any  time  fhe  fpoke,  it  was 
with  a  quicknefs  and  incoherence  that  plain- 
ly eyinced  the  total  deprivation  of  her  reafon. 


CHARLOTTE.  18© 


€  U  APT  E.R  -XXXII, 


REASONS  WHY  AND  WHEREFORE: . 

-1  he  reader  of  fenfibility  may  perhaps  be 
aflonifhed  to  find  Mrs.  Crayton  could  fo  po- 
sitively deny  any  knowledge  of  Charlotte  ;  k  • 
is  therefore  but  juft  that  her  conducl  fhould 
in  feme  meafure  be  accounted  "for.  She  had 
ever  been  fully  fcnfible  of  the  fuperiority.  of 
Charlotte's  fenib  and  virtue  ;.flie  was  confci- 
cus  that  fhe  would  never  have  fwerved  from 
recYiuicIe,  had  it  not  been  for  her  bad  pre- 
cepts and  worfe  example.  Thefe  were  things 
as  yet  unknown  to  her  hufband  ;  and  fhe 
wifhed  not  to  have  that  part  of  her  eon  duel 
expofed  to  him,  as  fhe  had  great  rcaibn  to 
fear  Hie  had  already  loft  confiderable  part  of 
that  power  fhe  once  maintained  over  him. 
She  trembled  while  Charlotte  was  in  the 
houfe,  left"  the  Colonel  fhould  return  ;  fhe 
perfectly  well  remembered  how  much  he 
ibereed  interefted  in  her  favor,  while  on  their 
paffage  from  England,  and  made  no  doubt, 
but,  fhould  he  fee  her  in  her  prefent  diilrefs, 
lie  would  offer  her  an  afylum,  and  protect 
licr  to  the  utmoft  of  his  power.  In  that  cg$b 


190  CHARLOTTE. 

fhe  feared  the  unguarded  nature  of  Charlotte, 
might  difcover  to  the  Colonel  the  part  flic 
had  taken  in  the  unhappy  girl's  elopement ; 
and  flie  well  knew  the  contraft  between  her 
own  and  Charlotte's  conduct  would  make  the 
former  appear  in  no  very  refpectable  light. 
Had  flic  reflected  properly,  fhe  would  have 
afforded  the  poor  girl  protection  ;  and  by  en- 
joining her  filence,  enfured  it  by  acts  of  re- 
peated kindnefs  ;  but  vice  in  general  blinds 
its  votaries,  and  they  difcover  their  real  cha- 
racters to  the  world,  when  they  are  moil 
fludious  to  preferve  appearances. 

Juft  fo  it  happened  with  Mrs.  Crayton  : 
her  fervants  made  no  fcruple  of  mentioning 
the  cruel  conduct  of  their  lady  to  a  poor  dif- 
treffed  lunatic  who  claimed  her  protection  ; 
every  one  joined  in  reprobating  her  inhuma- 
nity ;  nay,  even  Cory  don  thought  fhe  might 
at  leafl  have  ordered  her  to  be  taken  care  of, 
but  he  dare  not  even  hint  it  to  her,  for  he 
lived  but  in  her  fmiles,  and  drew  from  her 
lavifh  fondnefs  large  fums  to  fupport  an  ex- 
travagance to  which  the  ftate  of  his  own  fi- 
nances  was  very  inadequate  ;  it  cannot  there- 
fore be  fuppofed  that  he  wiflied  Mrs.  Cray- 
ton  to  be  very  liberal  in  her  bounty  to  the 
afflicted  fuppliant ;  yet  vice  had  not  fo  en- 
tirely feared  over  his  heart,  but  the  forrows 
of  Charlotte  could  find  a  vulnerable  part. 


CHARLOTTE.         191 

_  Charlotte  had  now  been  three  days  with 
her  humane  prefervers,  but  fhe  was  totally 
infenfible  of  every  thing  :  fhe  raved  inseifant- 
ly  for  Montraville  and  her  father  :  Hie  was 
not  confcious  of  being  a  mother,  nor  took 
the  leaft  notice  of  her  child,  except  to  alk 
whofe  it  was,  and  why  it  was  not  carried  to 
its  parents. 

"  Oh,"  faid  fhe  one  day  ftarting  up  on 
hearing  the  infant  cry,  "why,  why  will  you 
keep  that  child  here  ?  I  am  fure  you  would 
not  if  you  knew  how  hard  it  was  for  a  mo- 
ther to  be  parted  from  her  infant :  it  is  like 
tearing  the  cords  of  life  afunder.  Oh  could 
you  fee  the  horrid  fight  which  I  now  behold 
— there — there  Hands  my  dear  mother,  her 
poor  bofom  bleeding  at  every  vein,  her  gen- 
tle, affectionate  heart  torn  in  a  thoufand  pie- 
ces, and  all  for  the  lofs  of  a  ruined,  ungrate- 
ful child.  Save  me — fave  me —  from  her 
frown.  I  dare  not — indeed  1  dare  not  fpeak 
to  her." 

Such  were  the  dreadful  images  that  haunt- 
ed her  diftra£ted  mind,  and  nature  was  fink- 
ing fail  under  the  the  dreadful  maladv  which 
medicine  had  no  power  to  remove.  The  fur- 
geon  who  attended  her  was  a  humane  man  ; 
he  exerted  his  utmolt  abilities  to  lave  her  ; 
but  he  faw  fhe  was  in  want  of  many  neceffa- 
ries  and  comforts,  which  the  poverty  of  her 
hofpitabie  hoft  rendered  him  unable  to  pro- 


192         C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  'E. 

vide  :  lie  therefore  determined  to  make  her 
iituation  known  to  fome  of  the  officers'  ladies, 
and  endeavor  to  make  a  collection  for  her 
relief. 

When  he  returned  home,  after  making 
this  refoiution,  he  found  a  meffag-e  from 
Mrs.  Bcauchamp,  who  had  juft  arrived  from 
Rhocle-Ifland,  requefting  he  would  call  and 
fee  one  of  her  children,  who  was  very  un- 
well. "I  do  not  know,"  faid  he,  as  ke  was 
iiaftening  to  obey  the  fummons,  "  I  do  not 
know  a  woman  to  whom  I  could  apply  with 
more  hope  of  fuccefs  than  Mrs.  Beauchamp. 
I  will  endeavor  to  intereft  her  in  this  poor 
girl's  behalf;  flie  wants  the  foothing  balm  of 
friendly  confoiation  :  wre  may  perhaps  fave 
her  ;  we  will  try  at  ieaiL" 

"  And  where  is  The,"  cried  Mrs.  Beau- 
champ,  when  he  had  prefcribed  fomething 
for  the  child,  and  told  his  little  pathetic  tale, 
"  where  is  {he,  Sir  ?  we  will  go  to  her  im- 
mediately. Heaven  forbid  that  I  fhould  be 
deaf  to  the  calls  of  humanity.  "Come,  wc  will 
,'to  this  inltant."  Then  feizina:  the  doctor's 
arm,  they  fought  the  habitation  that  conlau*- 
cd  the  dying  Charlotte. 


CHARLOTTE.         193 


CHAP  T  E  R    XXXIII. 


WHICH  PEOPLE  VOID  OF  FEELING  NEED 
NOT  READ. 

V\  hex  Mrs.  Beauchamp  entered  the  ^pert- 
inent of  the  poor  fufferer,  flie  ftarted  back 
with  horror.  On  a  wretched  bed  without 
hangings,  and  but  poorly  fupplied  with  co- 
vering:, lav  the  emaciated  figure  of  what  itill 
retained  the  femblance  of  a  lovely  woman, 
though  iicknefs  had  fo  altered  her  features 
that  Mrs.  Beauchamp  had  not  the  leaft  recol- 
lection of  her  perfon.  In  one  corner  of  the 
room  flood  a  woman  wafhing,  and,  ihivering 
over  a  fmall  fire,  two  healthy  but  half  naked 
children :  the  infant  was  afieep  beflde  its  mo- 
ther, and,  en  a  chair  by  the  bed- fide,  flood 
3  porrenger  and  wooden  fpoon,  containing  a 
little  gruel,  and  a  tea-cup  with  about  two 
fpoon-fulls  of  wine  in  it.  Mrs.  Beauchamp 
had  never  before  beheld  fuch  a  fcene  of  po- 
verty; fhe  fhuddered  involuntarily,  and  ex- 
claiming- --'•' heaven preferve  us!*'  leaned  on 
the  back  of  a  chair  ready  to  fink  to  the  earth. 
The  doctor  repented  having  fo  precipitately 
brought  her  into  this  affecting  fcene ;  but 
there  was  no  time  for  apologies  :  Charlotte 
caught  the  found  of  her  voice,  and  Starting 
almoil  out  of  bed,  exclaimed...."  Angel  of 
peace  and  mercy,  art  thou  come  t 
ihe  ?  Oh,  I  know  you  are,  for  wheneve  ,  qu 
vol.  2.  B 


194        GHARLOT  T  E. 

was  near  me,  I  felt  cafed  of  half  my  forrows-; 
but  you  don't  know  me,  nor  can  I,  with  all 
the  recollection  I  am  miftrefs  of,  remember 
your  name  juil  now  ;  but  I  know  that  bene- 
volent countenance,  and  the  foftnefs  of  that 
voice,  which  has  fo  often  comforted  the 
wretched  Charlotte,'' 

Mrs.  Beauchamp  had,  during  the  time 
Charlotte  was  fpeaking,  feated  herfelf  on  the 
bed  and  taken  one  of  her  hands  :  fhe  looked 
at  her  attentively,  and  at  the  name  of  Char- 
lotte ihe  perfectly  conceived  the  whole  fhock- 
ine:  affair.  A  faint  licknefs  came  over  her. 
r  Gracious  heaven,"  faid  Ihe,  "  is  this  pofii- 
ble  :"  and  burftir.g  into  tears-,  flie  reclined 
the  burnine  head  of  Charlotte  on  her  own 
bofom  ;  and  folding  her  arms  about  her, 
wept  over  her  in  filence.  "  Oh,"  faid  Char- 
lotte, "  you  are  very  good  to  weep  thus  for 
me  :  it  is  a  long  time  fmce  I  fhed  a  tear  for 
myfelf :  my  head  and  heart  are  both  on  fire  ; 
butthcfe  tears  ofyonr's  fcemto  cool  and  re- 
fresh me.  Oh  now  I  remember  you  faid  you 
would  fend  a  letter  to  my  poor  father  :  do 
you  think  he  ever  received  it  ?  or  perhaps 
you  have  brought  me  an  anfwer  :  why  don't 
«vou  fpeak,  Madam  ?    Does  he  fay  I  may  £?o 

ml1  *  *  O 

heme  ?  Well  he  is  very  good  ;  I  fhall  foon 
Jbe  ready." 

•She  then  made  an  effort  to  get  out  of  bed  ; 

but.  being  prevented,  her  phrenzy  again  re- 

.  file  raved  with  the  greateft  wild- 

\flefs  tft|d  incoherence.     Mrs.   Beauchamp.. 


CHARLOTTE.         195 

Ending  it  was  mipofiible  for  her  to  be  remov- 
ed, contented  herfclf  with  ordering- the  apart- 
ment to  be  made  more  comfortable,  and  oro- 
curing  a  proper  nurfe  for  both  mother  and 
child  ;  and  having  learnt  the  particulars  of 
Charlotte's  fruitless  application  to  Mrs.  Cray- 
ton  from  honelt  John,  fhe  amply  rewarded 
him  for  his  benevolence,  and  returned  home 
with  a  heart  opprefoid  with  many  painful 
fenfations,  but  yet  rendered  ealy  by  the  re- 
flection that  fhe  had  performed  her  duty  for- 
wards a  diftreffed  fellow-creature. 

Early  the  next  morning  fhe  again  vifited 
Charlotte,  and  found  her  tolerably  compofed :; 
ilie  called  her  by  name,  thanked  her  for  her 
goodnefs,  and  when  her  child  was  brought 
to  her,  preffed  it  in  her  arms,  wept  over  it, 
and  called  it  the  offspring  of  difobedknee. 
Mrs.  Beauehamn  was  delighted  to  fee  herfo- 
much  amended,  and  beajan  to  hope  fee  mia;ht 
recover,  and,  fpkeof  her  former  errors,  be- 
come an  ufefu-1  and  rclpeciable  member  of 
fociety ;  but  the  arrival  of  the  doclor  put  aa 
end  to  thefe  delufive  hopes  ;  he.  faid  nature 
was  making  her  laft  effort,  and  a  few  hour* 
would   moil  probably    confign  the  unhappy" 

srirl  to  her  kindred  dud." 
<-j  _     .  . 

Being  afked  how    me  found  herfelf,  mcf 

replied "  Why  better,  much  better,  Doc* 

tor.  I  hope  now  1  have  but  little  more  to  fuf- 
fej.  1  had  lail  night  a  few  hours  ileep,  and 
when  1  awoke  recovered  the  full  power 
of  recollection.       I  am  quite  fenfible  of  my 


l$h        C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  Er 

wcaknefsi  t: feel  I  have  but  little  longer  ta 
combat  $$th  the  Shafts  of  affliction.  I  have 
an  humble  confidence  In  the  mercy  of  him 
who  &<  -i  to  fave  the  world,  and  trull  that  my 
ful&Fings  in  this  ftate  of  mortality*,  joined 
to  my  unfeigned  repentance^  through  his 
mercy,  have  blotted  my  offences  from  the 
fight  of  my  offended  maker,  I  have  but  one 
care — my  poor  infant  !  Father  of  mercy, 
continued  me,  raifmg  her  eyes,  ''  of  thy  in- 
finite goodnefs,  grant  that  the  fins  of  the  pa- 
rent be  not  vilited  on  the  unoffending  child. 
May  thefe  who  tauglit  me  to  defpife  thy  lawa 
be  forgiven ;  lay  net  my  offences  to  their 
charge,  I  befeech  thee  ;  and  oh !  mower  tha 
ehoiceii  of  thy  blefllngs  on  thofe  vvhofe  pity 
has  ie-othed  the  aiSicled  heart,  and  made  ea- 
fy  even  the  bed  of  pain  and  ficknefs." 

She  was  exhauftea  by  this  fervent  addrefs 
to  the  throne  of  mercy,  and  though  her  lips, 
fail  moved,  her  voice  became  inarticulate  ; 
ihe  lay  for  feme  time  as  it  were  in  a  dofe^ 
and  then  recovering,  faintly  prefied  Mrgv 
Beauchamp's  hand,  and  requeftcd  that  a 
clergyman  might  be  fent  for. 

On  his  arrival,  foe  joined  fervently  in  the 
pious  onice,  frequently  mentioning  her  in- 
gratitude to  her  parents  as  what  lay  moil: 
heavy  at  her  heart.  When  {he  had  perform- 
ed the  laft  folemn  duty,  and  was  preparing  to 
liectown,  a  little  buftle  outfide  of  the  door 
occafioned  Mrs.  Beauchamp  to  open  it  and 
enquire  the  caufe.     A    man  in  appearance 


CHARLOTTE;         19T 

about  forty,  prefented  himfelfj  and  afked  for 
Mrs.  Beauchamp. 

-"  That  is  my  name,  Sir,"  faid  fhe. 

"  Oh  then,  my  dear  Madam,"  cried  he, 
"  tell  me  where  I  may  find  my  poor,  ruined, 
but  repentant  child." 

Mrs.  Beauchamp  was  furprized  andaffecled; 
fhe  knew  not  what  to  fay  ;  ihe  forefaw  the 
agony  this  interview  would  occafion  Mr. 
Temple,  who  had  juil  arrived  in  fearch  of  his 
Charlotte,  and  yet  was  feufible  that  the  oar- 
don  and  blefling  of  her  father  would  foften 
even  the  aganies  of  death  to  the  daughter. 

She  hefitated.  "  Tell  me,  Madam,"  cried 
ne  wildly,  "  tell  me,  I  befeechthee,  does  ilie 
live  ?  ihall  I  fee  my  darling  once  again  ?. 
Perhaps  fhe  is  in  this,  houfe.  Lead,  lead  me 
to  her,  that  I  may  blefs  her,  and  then,  lie 
down  and  die." 

The  ardent  manner  in  which  he  uttered' 
thefe  words  occaiioncd  him  to  raife  his  voice. 
ft  caught  the  ear  of  Charlotte  :.  fhe  knew  the- 
beloved  found  :  and  uttering  a  loud  ihriek, 
flie  fprang  forward  as  Mr.  Temple  entered 
the  room.  "  My  adored  father  !"  "  My  long 
loll  child  !"  Nature  could  fupport  no  more, 
and  they  both  funk  lifelefs  into  the  arms  of 
the  attendants. 

Charlotte  was  again  put  into  bed,  and  a 
few  moments  reftored  Mr.  Temple  :  but  to*- 
defcribe  the  agony  of  his  fufferings  is  pail 
the  power  of  any  one.  Though  we  may  rea- 
dily conceive,  we  cannot  delineate  the  dread- 
a.  2. 


198        CHARLOTTE. 

fill  fcenc.  Every  eye  gave  teftimony  o£ 
what  each  heart  felt — but  all  were  iilent. 

When  Charlotte  recovered,  flie  found  her- 
felf  fupported  in  her  father's  arms.  She  call 
on  him  a  moll  expreflive  look,  but  was  una- 
ble to  fpeak.  A  reviving-  cordial  was  admi- 
niilered.  She  then  alked,  in  a  low  voice  for 
her  child  :  it  was  brought  to  her  :  fhe  put 
it  in  her  father's  arms.  "  Protect  her,"  laid 
flie,   "  and  blefs  your  dying — : — " 

Unable  to  finifh  the  fentence,  fhe  funk 
back  on  her  pillow  ;  her  countenance  was 
ferenely  compofed  ;  flic  regarded  her  father 
as  he  preffed  the  infant  to  his  breafl  with  a 
ftedfaft  look  ;  a  fudden  beam  of  joy  paffed 
acrofs  her  languid  features,  fhe  raifed  her 
eyes  to  heaven — and  then  clofed  them  for- 
ever. 


CHAPTER        XXXIV. 


RETRIBUTION. 

In  the  mean  time,  Montraville  having 're- 
ceived orders  to  return  to  New- York,  arriv- 
ed, and  having  ftill  feme  remains  of  com- 
panionate tendernefs  for  the  woman  whom  he 
regarded  as  brought  to  fliame  by  himfelf,  he 
went  out  in  fearch  of  Belcour,  to  enquire; 
whether  His  was  fafe.ahdwhether  the  child  ii>  - 


CHARLOTTE.         199 

ed.  He  found  him  immerfed  in  diflipation, 
and  could  gain  no  other  intelligence  than 
that  Charlotte  had  left  him,  and  that  he 
knew  not  what  had  become  of  her. 

"  I  cannot  believe  it  pofiible"  faid  Men- 
traville,  '*  that  a  mind  once  fo  pure  as  Char- 
lotte Temple's,  (herald  fo  fuddenly  become 
the  manfion  of  vice.  Beware,  Belcour,'* 
continued  he,  "  beware  if  you  have  dared  to 
behave  either  unjuflly  or  dishonorably  to 
that  poor  girl,  your  life  fliall  pay  the  forfeit  i 
I  will  revenge  her  caufe." 

He  immediately  went  into  the  country,  to- 
the  houfe  where  he  had  left  Charlotte.  It 
was  defolate.  After  much  enquiry,  he  at 
length  found  the  fervant  girl  who  had  lived 
with  her.  From  her  he  learned  the  mifery 
Charlotte  had  endured  from  the  complicated 
evils  of  illnefs,  poverty,  and  a  broken  heart, 
and  that  (he  had  fet  out  on  foot  for  New- 
York,  on  a  cold  winter's  evening  ;  but  fhe 
could  inform  him  no  further. 

Tortured  alnioit  to  madnefs  by  this  (hock- 
ing account,  he  returned  to  the  city  ;  but  be- 
fore he  reached  it,  the  evening  was  drawing 
to  a  clofe.  In  entering  the  town,  he  was 
obliged  to  pafs  feveral  little  huts,  the  refi- 
dence  of  poor  women,  who  fupported  them- 
felves  by  warning  the  clothes  of  the  officers 
and  foldiers.  It  was  nearly  dark  :  he  heard 
from  a  neighboring  fteeple,  a  folemntoll  that. 
jfeemed  to  fay,  fome  poor  mortal  was  going 
to  their  k.il  manfion  ;  the  found  (truck  on  the 


20#         C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

heart  of  Montraville,   and  he  involuntarily 
flopped,  when,  from    one  of  the  houfes  he 
faw  the  appearance  of  a  funeral.    Almofl  un- 
knowing what  he  did,  he  followed  at  a  fmall 
diftance  ;   and  as  they   let  the  coffin  into  the" 
grave,  he  enquired  of  a  foldier  who  ftood  by, 
and  had  juft  wiped  off  a  tear  that  did  honor 
to  his  heart,  who  it  was  that  was  jult  buried. 
"  An   pleafe   your  honor,"   faid    the    man, 
*'  'tis  a  poor  girl  that  was  brought  from  her 
friends  by  a  cruel  man,  who  left  her  when  fhe 
was  big  with  child,  and    married  another." 
Montraville  flood  motionlefs,    and  the  man 
proceeded — "  I  met  her  myfelf  not  a  forU 
night  fmce,  one  night  all  wet  and  cold  in  the 
flreet  ;  fhe  went  to  Madam  Crayton's,  but 
foe  would  not  take  her  in,  and  fo  the  poor 
thing  went  raving  mad . : '     Montraville  could 
bear  no  more  ;   he  ftruck  his  hands   againfl 
his  forehead  with  violence  ;   and  exclaiming 
"  poor  murdered  Charlotte  !"  ran  with  pre- 
cipitation towards  the  place  where  they  were 
heaping  the  earth  on  her  remains.      "  Hold, 
hold,  one  moment,"  faid  he.   "  Clofe  not  the 
grave  of  the  injured  Charlotte  Temple  till  I 
have  taken  vengeance  on  her  murderer." 

"  Ralh  young  man,"  faid  Mr.  Temple, 
"  who  art  "thou,  that  thus  diilurhefl  the  laft 
mournful  rites  of  the  dead,  and  rudely  break- 
eil  in  upon  the  grief  of  an  afflicted  father  ?" 

"  If  thou  art  the  father  of  Charlotte  Tem- 
ple," faid  he,  gazing  at  him  with  mingled" 
horror  and  amazement — "  if  thou  art  her  fa- 
hcr— I  am  Montraville."      Then  fallings. 


C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E.         201 

his  knees,  he  continued — "  Here  is  my  bo- 
fom.  I  bare  it  to  receive  the  ilroke  I  merit. 
Strike — ftrike  now,  and  lave  me  from  the 
mifery  of  refle£tion." 

"  Alas  !»  laid  Mr.  Temple,  "if  thou  wort 
the  feducer  of  my  child,  thy  own  reflection* 
be  thy  punilhment.  I  wreft  not  the  power 
from  the  hand  of  omnipotence.  Look  on  that 
little  heap  of  earth,  there  hai>  thou  buried 
the  only  joy  of  a  fond  father,  Look  at  it  of- 
ten ;  and  may  thy  heart  feel  fuch  true  forrow* 
as  (hall  merit  the  mercy  of  heaven."  He 
turned  from  him  ;  and  Montraville  itarting: 
up  from  the  ground  where  he  had  thrown 
himfelf,  and  that  inilant  remembering  the 
perfidy  of  Belcour,  flew  like  lightning  to  his 
lod'ci n«*s.  Belcour  was  intoxicated  ;■  Montra- 
ville  impetuous  :  they  fougiu,  and  the  fword 
of  the  latter  entered  the  heart  of  hisadverfary. 
lie  fell,  and  expired  almoit  inftaiitly.  Mon- 
traville had  received  a  flight  worn  cl ;  and 
overcome  with  the  agitation  of  his  mind  and 
lofs  of  blood,  was  carried  in  a  Hate  of  infen- 
fibility  to  his  diffracted  wife.  A  dangerous 
illnefs  and  obuinate  delirium  enfued,  during 
which  he  raved  inceffantly  for  Charlotte  :  but 
a  ftrong  coialUtution,  and  the  tender  afii- 
duities  of  Julia,  in  time  overcame  the  difor- 
der.  He  recovered  ;  but  to  the  end  of  his 
life  was  fubjeel  to  fevere  fits  of  melancholy, 
and  while  he  remained  at  New- York,  fre- 
quently retired  to  the  church- yard,  where  he 
would  weep  over  the  grave,  and  regret  the 
untimely  fate  of  th«  lovely  Charlotte  Temple. 


2G2         CHARLOTT  W> 

* 

G  H  A  P  T  E  R      XXXf. 

CONCLUSION. 

Oiiohtly  after  the  interment  of  his  daugh- 
ter, Mr.  Temple,  with  his  dear  little  eharge 
and  her  mirfe,  let  forward  for  England.  It 
would  be  impoffible  to  do  juitice  to  the  meet- 
ing fcene  between  him,  his  Lucy,  and  her 
aged  father.  Every  heart  of  fenlibility  can: 
eafdy  conceive  their  feelings.  Aftejr  the  firfc 
tumult  of  grief  was  fubikled,  Mrs.  Temple- 
gave  up  the  chief  of  her  time  to  her  grand- 
child, and  as  fhe  grew  up  and  improved, 
began  to  alaaofc  fancy  fhe  again  peffeifed  her 
Charlotte. 

It  was  about  ten  years  after  thefe  painful" 
its,  that  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Temple,  having 
buried  their  father,  were  obliged  to  come  to 
.London  on  particular  bufmefs,  and  brought 
the  little  Lucy  with  them.  They  had  been? 
walking  one  evening,  when  on  their  return 
they  found  a  poor  wretGh  fitting  on  the  Heps 
of  the  door.  She  attempted  to  rife  as  they 
approached  ;  but  from  extreme  weajenefia 
was.  unable,  and  after  feveral  fruitiefs  effort:* 
fell  back  in  a  fit.     Mr.  Temple  was  n»t  ©n& 


CHARLOTTE.         208 

of  thofe  men  who  Hand  to  confider  whether 
by  afiifling  an  object  in  diilrefs  they  fhall  not 
inconvenience  themfelves,  but  mitigated  by 
the  rmpulie  of  a  nobie  feeling  'heart,  imme- 
diately ordered  her  to  be  carried  into  the 
houfe,  and  proper  reiloratives  applied. 

She  foon  recovered  ;  and  fixing  her  e}Te$ 
on  Mrs.  Temple,  cried — "you  know  not. 
Madam,  what  you  do  ;  you  know  not  whom 
you  are  relieving,  or  you  would  curfe  me  in 
the  bitternefs  of  your  heart.  Come  not  near 
me,  Madam  ;  I  lhall  contaminate  you.  I  am 
the  viper  that  flung  your  peace.  I  am  the 
woman  who  turned  the  poor  Charlotte  out 
to  perifh  in  the  flreet.  Heaven  have  mercy '! 
I  fee  her  now,"  continued  (he,  looking  at 
Lucy  ;  M  men,  fuch  was  the  fair  bud  of  in- 
nocence, that  my  vile  arts  blsiled  ere  it  was 
half  blown." 

It  was  in  vain  that  Mr.  and  Mrs,  Temple 
inireated  her  to  be  compofed  and  to  take  forne 
refrefhment.  She  only  drank  half  a  glafs  of 
wine  ;  and  then  told  them  that  fhe  had.  been 
feparated  from  her  hufband  fevc-n  year*,  the 
chief  of  which  fhe  had  palled  in  riot,  difUpa- 
tion  and  vice,  till,  overtaken  by  poverty  and 
ficknefs,  fhe  had  been  reduced  to  part  with 
every  valuable,  and  thought  only  of  ending 
her  life  in  a  prifon,  when  a  benevolent  friend 
paid  her  debts  and  releafed  her  ;  but  that 
her  illnefs  increafing,  flie  had  no  pofiible 
means  of  fupporting  herfelf,  and  her  friends 
were  weary  cf relieving  her.  "I  have  faded, ? 


204        C  H  A  R  L  O  T  T  E. 

faid  flic,  "  two  days,  and  laft  night  laid  my 
aching  head  on  the  cold  pavement  ;  indeed 
it  was  but  j uft  that  I  fhould  experience  thofe 
miferies  myfelf,  which  I  had  unfeelingly  in- 
flicted on  others." 

Greatly  as  Mr.  Temple  had  reafon  to  de- 
teft  Mrs.  Craytcn,  he  could  not  behold  her 
-in  this  diftrefs  without  fome  emotions  of  pi- 
ty, lie  gave  her  (belter  that  night  beneath 
his  hofpitable  roof,  and  the  next  day  got  her 
admiflion  into  an  hofpital  ;  where  having 
lingered  a  few  weeks,  flie  died,  a  ftriking 
example,  that  vice,  however  prosperous  in 
the  beginning,  in  the  end  leads  only  to  mifeiy 
and  fhame. 


HE    EN  2. 


ra9tt 


